• Blood on the walls
    Blood in the halls
    Blood on my hands
    The blood of man

    The smell of death
    In with every breath
    Walking are the dead
    Wanting to be fed

    Slowly they decay
    Their bodies start to grey
    Gruesome and gory
    They are a horror story

    They feel nothing
    They just keep coming
    No sense of time
    Only one thing on their mind

    They are preying
    They are slow and swaying
    Moving in packs
    For a stronger attack

    They have no heart
    They will tear you apart
    They will eat you alive
    And then you will die

    One bite is all it takes
    For the dead to awake
    The virus will spread
    Creating the living dead

    You need to take aim
    And take out the brain
    Make sure they are slain
    It’s the only way