I feel ice cold
  I have no pulse
  Live flesh moving about
  Like driving through In and Out
  
  Fertile fields of body parts
  Severed limb salad
  Lady fingers
  Honey mustard
  Runny nose custard
  
  Large intestine lasagna
  Grey matter dipped in batter
  Deep fried and dripping with grease
  
  Night of the living dead
  Slap a hand between some bread
  You eat Wilma, I'll eat Fred
  Zombies have no need for street cred
  
  You can shoot us and we don't die
  Somebody pass me a nose and an eye
  The army left me wondering why
  I exposed myself to that hazardous waste
  Now I have a live flesh taste
  
  Lock your doors and bar your windows
  Or Uncle Ted gets it in the head
  Your girlfriend tastes like butter
  You should have seen her eyes flutter
  
  Your mom tastes like old socks
  I'd rather eat bagels and locks
  And I'm not even a dead Jewish guy
  
  Your live flesh shall be forgotten
  Because your booty smells real rotten
  Even stink would say that stinks
  Some things just aren't edible me thinks