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10 dead patients crawling from their graves, they're undead.

They're awake to get their sawed off limbs, sowe them back.

Not alive they hunger for their flesh, drink the blood.

Only way to survive, not to rot.

Call for an emergency, the dead knock at my door.

Seems a like he's lost his limbs, he's screaming bloody gore.

9-1-1, if you want to kill some-one.

9-1-1, give me a sec, fuck they hung up.

10 dead patients running to their graves, light has come.

The feast has stopped, no more people left in this town.

Chopped off fingers used as fork and knive,

skulls as bowls and eyes as sweet delights.

Nails between my teeth, the damn thing won't crack.

The simple alternative: break the teeth instead.

10 dead patients searching hospitals near to you.

Coming soon, 10 men strong, their world-wide tour.

Medics standing by to be used as food,

a live massacre not bound by any rules.

9-1-1, If you want to kill some-one.

9-1-1, If you want to kill everyone.