The night is dark, and I can see
Quite plainly, now, the two or three
Or four or five of them that come.
Oh, how I wish that I were numb
To all the things that soon shall be.
And what will have become of me
When everything has come to pass?
No, all the bodies on the grass
Are surely just asleep, I think.
And look, I'm sure I saw one blink!
But wait, he rises from the earth,
A creature straight from Satan's hearth.
He lusts for flesh, he feasts on fear;
And now the creature's drawing near!
There is no time for me to cry,
No loved ones whom I'll tell “goodbye.”
The zombie's teeth are in my skin
And soon, I will be just like him.