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Disinturd

Aftermath


Twitching corpses six feet below
Waiting to rise up and feast
Torrential storms moisten the ground
Up through the soil they come

Stumbling and shambling around
Tasting the air for human flesh
Their hunger a fire uncontrolled
Onslaught has begun

A feast on your brain
Onslaught of the dead

You cannot escape the zombie’s quest
To dine on the living
Chomping their way through flesh and sinew
Gnawing on your bones

Eating machines from beyond the grave
Fresh meat, disembowel
Cannot escape the jaws of death
All at home dismembered






Mais tocadas

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