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Текст песни Misfits - Hunting Humans

Misfits - Hunting Humans слова песни


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
We`re hunting humans
We`re hunting humans
It`s killing time every day

I can`t control this eerie feeling
An evil screaming in my head
I don`t 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...

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