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No More Kings
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The Living Dead
The living dead
Are keeping me up at night
They're hanging around outside
They're probably mad they've died
The living dead
Are gathering in the streets
I'm buried beneath my sheets
They're making it hard to sleep
I hear them shuffle in the crowd
But do they have to be so loud?
It seems to me that all their life
Was spent being noisy
And now they get to do it twice
Just to annoy me
The living dead
Are keeping me up at night
They're hanging around outside
They're probably mad they've died
The living dead
Are gathering in the streets
I'm buried beneath my sheets
They're making it hard to sleep
Scratching, scraping, groans they're making
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My head is aching now
Claws are raking, walls are shaking
And they're breaking down
Nerves are quaking (all night long they're moaning)
No mistaking (in their tattered clothing)
Here I'll stake my ground (and the horde is growing)
It seems to me that all their life
Was spent being noisy
And now they get to do it twice
Just to annoy me
The living dead
Are keeping me up at night
They're hanging around outside
They're probably mad they've died
The living dead
Are gathering in the streets
I'm buried beneath my sheets
They're making it hard to sleep
Oh, the living dead
The living dead
The living dead
The living dead
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