They say when the day comes, the dead shall rise from their graves and walk the earth
I say that the day has passed us by; For are we not all dead?
I say that the day has passed us by; For are we not all dead?
I go to work, pleased at what a big man i am; Scorn for the beggar who soils my trousers at the junction
I like it when she falls and hurts her knee; I love it when I trip her in the rush
I know no emotion, I see no pain
We move on like happy dead men
Content in our vacant lives; Observing all with our empty eyes, seeing none
The laughter of an innocent child, the call of the wild mean nothing to me
I get home, I wash my hands
Get rid of all human contact, glue in to the network
The man died on the street; I am happy my shirt is clean
The woman was bereft in her sorrow, I m just glad for more money tomorrow
Inside me lies a forlorn kid seeking for approval, looking for a nod of assurance
Encased in my hollow shell of morality; i seek solace in mortality
We talk of killing all the time, while time kills us all the time; softly, gently, ravenously
Next morning I wake up; mumble and stumble out of bed,
unshaven, bloodshot eyes, phlegmatic; scared the kid says "he, zombie"
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