Night Of The Living Dead - Misfits

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

Only-ones, lonely-ones

Ripped up like shredded-wheat

Only-ones, lonely-ones

Be a sort of human picnic

This aint no love-in

This aint no happening

This aint no feeling in my arm

Whoa

Whoa oh Whoa oh Whoa oh You think youre a zombie, you think its a scene

From some monster magazine

Well, open your eyes

This aint no fantasy, boy

This aint no love-in

This aint no happening

This aint no feeling in my arm

Whoa

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