Slayers, Werewolves and Angels, annoying as fleas.
They come in the day, they come in the night.
They come here to steal and they come here to fight.
Do these murderous fiends know what I do inside?
That whenever they come, there is no place to hide?
A myriad of tunnels branch out from my cave.
These are all known to me, I have made them my slave.
For down beneath the surface, where things are done my way.
It's down below the surface, strangers' paths, they stray.
And when they go deep down, this is my routine.
It's right when they get lost, that I become quite mean.
This is what happens when they enter my cave.
It's dark and it's cold, it's my home; it's their grave.
But if you still choose to come, your gut feelings you belay.
Just know that deep down, there'll be no getting away.