Текст песни Night of the Living Dead (9/5/80 master sound prod. session D) - Misfits
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
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
This ain′t no love-in
This ain't no happening
This ain′t no feeling in my arm
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