Now it’s two am, the street’s cold and barren
Rain comin’ down, he staggers by just starrin’
Young cold bony fingers, ragged soul-less and hardened
In the search and the quest of a fix’uh, in the back of a junkyard
And he’s goin’ back for more, doin’ the zombie shuffle
He’s goin back for more, oh
He takes an old crusty needle and stabs it in his arm
His heart begins to pound and he’s about to buy the farm
Staggering feeling like superman, aimless and flying high
Begs for some pocket change from everyone passing by
Back for more, back for more
Give it to me!
He looks, he looks around the city
And hangs his scabby head
Everyone’s doing fine except the living dead
When zombies come out at night!
