Where will you be
When the zombies arise
And try to reclaim the streets
With corpse-rotting flesh
They are lusting for brains
And other such humanly meats
They’ve a lumbering walk
a low lifeless moan
And no need to rest or desist
They will come for you
In numbers so vast
That no man can hope to resist
So go get a twelve-gauge
Some Kevlar and nades
For there’s only a small upper-hand
Get to some high ground
And board up the door
It is time to make a stand
