You know its kinda hard just to get along today Came down with a condition, so I came up from the grave I may not have a pulse, and I may not have breath So emaciated like a man on crystal meth You discriminate because we abberate But our numbers now are rising as undead accumulate You must acquiesce to our zombiness And feed us brains! And feed us brains! The living days are through, you numbers are too few Meanwhile, we're munching on medullas and perhaps a pons or two So drop your barricade and join our escapade Hey, hey, dead's the new alive! Oh my God, a zombie! Oh crap! Oh, crap! Oh my God, a zombie! Oh crap! Oh, crap! Oh my God, a zombie! Oh crap! Oh, crap! And all the ghouls say I'm pretty spry for a dead guy