آهنگ: Misfits. Famous Monsters. Hunting Humans.

Upon this thresh-hold of disaster
The birth of the eleventh plague
The fires burn at night,I begin to doubt
-The Smell of 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 everyday


I can't control this eerie feeling
An evil screaming in my ear
I don't think I'll last the night,
there is no cure for this genocide
Or ressurection of the dead
Night of the Living Dead....

We're hunting humans
We're hunting humans
We're hunting humans
It's killing time everyday