Stumbling numbly through the dark
with the moonlight upon my face;
sick of this world, the one fed by grace.
I take another sip of my toxic *****;
please join me, I’ve got the graveyard blues.

Kick some rubble, stomp the dirt,
craving a human, some juicy dessert.
Its absence stings, makes me hurt;
am I the only one left to convert?

I won’t have it, I won’t give it,
gonna scratch, gonna burn your skin,
gonna stain the white flag red
and resurrect my beloved undead.

Let’s take a ride and darken the bruise,
only if we erase my graveyard blues.

Curse the soil, raise the zombie,
my little skinny flesh eater—
—ah, there ain’t nothin’ sweeter.

Laugh with my fanged beasts
as they howl at the moon,
reminding me of a familiar tune.

Bring out the blood drinkers
and decapitate the good thinkers;
brains for dinner, brains for lunch,
flesh n’ such the ghouls munch.

Release the creatures from their cell;
again, they roam the night—
—time to raise hell.

Sharpen the claws of my sinister muse,
lend it a blood-inked quill—
—no more graveyard blues.