4 acessos
Day''s end, no light in sight, so this is how the end begins
The ground is moving, the soil it boils, bodies are rising
Ripping and rendering no thoughts, no soul
Just a voracious hunger for the living
Putrid, wretched, rotting beast, bodies are rising
It seems so futile
Nothing slows them down
The dead keep on rising
Hunting and killing
The people they bite into
They feed upon their skin
Will soon get up to kill
A cycle with no end.