Lyrics Night Of The Living Dead - 88 Fingers Louie

Night Of The Living Dead

Stumble in somnambulance so
Pre-dawn corpses come to life
Armies of the dead survive
Armies of the hungry ones
Only ones, lonely ones
Ripped up like shredded-wheat
Only ones, lonely ones
Be a sort of human picnic
This ain’t no lovin'
This ain’t no happening
This ain’t no feelin' in my arm
No
No
Oh
Oh
You think you’re a zombie, you think it’s a scene
From some monster magazine, well
Open your eyes now
Too late, no fantasy, cuz
This ain’t no lovin'
This ain’t no happiness'
This ain’t no feeling in my arm
Oh
No
No oh
No
No