Not Just My Head

Stumble in some ambulance so
Pre-dawn corpses come to life
Armies of the dead survive
Armies of the hungry ones
Only-ones, lonely-ones
Ripped up like shredded-wheat
Only-ones, lonely-ones
Be a sort of human picnic
This ain’t no love-in
This ain’t no happening
This ain’t no feeling in my arm
Whoa Whoa oh Whoa oh Whoa oh
You think you’re a zombie, you think it’s a scene
From some monster magazine
Well, open your eyes too late
This ain’t no fantasy, boy
This ain’t no love-in
This ain’t no happening
This ain’t no feeling in my arm
you don’t listen to a single word
we say things get rougher
everyday fuckin' arrogance drivin' me crazy
get back in the mold
and do just what we’re told
we cry for change you think
we’re crazy it’s not just my head
we’re all dead when there’s nothing left to live for
we’ll all be better off dead
cuz there’s nothing left to live for