Night of the living dead

Whoa oh oh oh Whoa oh Whoa oh Stumble in somnambulance so Pre-dawn corpses come to life Armies of the dead surviving 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 [now/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 Whoa Whoa oh Whoa oh Whoa oh Whoa oh oh oh oh oh oh oh oh oh oh oh oh oh oh oh