Whoa oh oh oh

Whoa oh

Whoa oh

Stumble in somnambulance so

Pre-dawn corpses come to life

Armies of the dead surviving

Armies of the hungry ones

Ripped up like shredded-wheat

Be a sort of human picnic

Whoa

Whoa oh

Whoa oh

Whoa oh

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

From some monster magazine

Well, open your eyes [now/too late]

This ain't no fantasy, boy

Whoa

Whoa oh

Whoa oh

Whoa oh

Whoa oh oh oh oh oh oh oh oh oh oh oh oh oh oh oh