Isn't It Grand, Boys, to be Walking Undead

Look at the corpses, bloated and rotting
Isn’t it grand boys to be walking undead? (brains, Brains, BRAINS!)
No time for praying
Just time for a bloody last cry
And always remember the slower you run
The sooner you’ll bloody well die
Look at the people, screaming in terror
Isn’t it grand boys to be walking undead? (brains, Brains, BRAINS!)
Look at the preacher, feasting on choir boys (nothing new)
Isn’t it grand boys to be walking undead? (brains, Brains, BRAINS!)
Look at the widow, she’s next on the menu
Isn’t it grand boys to be walking undead? (brains, Brains, BRAINS!)
Look at the flowers, crushed under molded feet
Isn’t it grand boys to be walking undead? (brains, Brains, BRAINS!)
Look at the whiskey, let’s down the whole barrel
Then it’s so grand boys to go hunting undead (brains, Brains, BRAINS!)
Look at the tombstone, see how it’s shifting
Up comes the hands of another undead (brains, Brains, BRAINS!)