Rotten and falling apart at the seams,
No longer are my senses keen.
Even if I've turned into an animal,
I can never have enough, I'm never full.
I'm numb from death, cold from frost,
All I can think about is feeding before I get lost;
In the mist.
In the ghosts.
All I see is black and white,
And it's so blurry, especially at my hunger's height.
I've learned to live with death in the gray,
Because when you're a zombie, there isn't any other way.