Whoa oh oh oh whoa oh whoa oh
Stumble in some ambulance so
pre-dawn corpses come to life
armies of the dead survive
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
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 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