Not sure when it started,
peeling from his bones,
Piece it back together all alone,
Hope it held together long enough for he,
To pitch the greener grasses and hope that she would agree,
Fresh off a binger in the woods, Flesh covered in bites,
Testing what is real, what is good, Man, it’s been a long night.
It’s a tribute to zombies of which I’ve become,
Where do I go from here? Where do I go from here?
Clinging to promises, Fighting off the vignette,
Tunnels cave, visions fade, Swallowed by the vignette.
He’s thinking, “There’s no way I’m headed there.”
Always sure footed, educated, and was never scared,
No he can’t hold out his hand without it shaking,
Hounded by a bunch of dead when the search party found him,
Fresh off a binger in the woods, Flesh covered in bites,
Testing what is real, what is good, Man, it’s been a long night.
No, not me, it’s for a friend,
No no, no
