| Lifeless they are prowling
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| Dark deserted streets
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| Raw are their faces
|
| close is their sense of smell
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| Shadows of the past life
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| Marked their facial expressions
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| Forgotten are emotions
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| And only hunger remains
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| Silent they are reeling
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| Bodies cold like ice
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| Lost in a dream
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| Bones wrapped out in proud flesh
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| Aesthetic is the play
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| Of their uncovered sinews
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| Breed of the demised
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| Signs of transistoriness
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| Deep inside
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| Maggots and gruels have their nests
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| Guts can be The home for a worm-family
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| They can’t remember
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| The names they had once
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| Besides after death
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| Names have no consequence
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| They won’t recognise
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| Parents, children and friends
|
| memories are extinguished
|
| And only hunger remains
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| Mouldy are their incisors
|
| Appearance are deceptive
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| They’re able to crunch a thighbone
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| It seems that they don’t know compassion
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| Because they would even assault
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| A 3 years old girl in a wheelchair
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| Eager for booty and foaming
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| They rush at everything that moves
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| Believe me their greed knows no bounds
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| One bite of them is enough
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| And you will become one of them
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| You would lose your human nature
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| And only hunger remains |