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The Misfits - Hunting Humans
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Upon this threshold of disaster
the birth of the eleventh plague
the fires burn at night i begin to doubt the smell of burning flesh will ever fade away
The touch of death is all around us
a thousand corpses block our way
a man-made germ makes almost everyone commit suicide just to rise and eat their dead
night of the living dead
Were hunting humans, whaooo-ooo
were hunting humans, whaooo-ooo
were hunting humans , whaooo-oo
were hunting humans
its killing time every day
I cant control this eerie feeling
an evil screaming in my head
i dont think ill last the night
there is no cure for this genocide or resurrection of the dead
night of the living dead
Were hunting humans, whaooo-ooo
were hunting humans, whaooo-ooo
were hunting humans , whaooo-oo
were hunting humans
its killing time every day