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Song title:
Misfits - Hunting Humans
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216.73.217.165
Upon this threshold of disaster The birth of the eleventh plague The fires burn at night I begin to doubt the smell of burning flesh Will ever fade away The touch of death is all around us A thousand corpses block our way A man-made germ makes almost everyone commit Suicide Just to rise and eat their dead Night of the living Dead We're hunting humans whaoo-ooo We're hunting humans whaoo-ooo We're hunting humans whaoo-ooo It's killing time every day I can't control this eerie feeling An evil screaming in my head I don't think I'll last the night There is no cure For this genocide Or resurrection of the dead Night of the living dead We're hunting humans whaooo-ooo-oo...
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