No oh oh oh oh

No oh

No oh



Stumble in somnambulance so

Pre-dawn corpses come to life

Armies of the dead surviving

Armies of the hungry ones



Only-ones, lonely-ones

Ripped up like shredded-wheat

Only-ones, lonely-ones

Be a sort of human picnic



This ain't no love-in

This ain't no happening

This ain't no feeling in my arm



No oh

No oh

No oh

No oh



You think you're a zombie, you think it's a scene

From some monster magazine

Well, open your eyes too late

This ain't no fantasy, boy



This ain't no love-in

This aint' no happening

This ain't no feeling in my arm



No oh

No oh

No oh

No oh

No oh oh oh oh oh oh oh oh oh oh oh oh oh oh oh oh