MUSICA.COM > M > Misfits > Hunting Humans

Upon this threshold of
disaster The birth of the
eleventh plague The fires
burn at night I begin to doubt
the smell of burning 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
whaoo-ooo We're hunting
humans whaoo-ooo We're
hunting humans whaoo-ooo
It's killing time every day I
can't control this eerie feeling
An evil screaming in my head
I don't think I'll last the night
There is no cure For this
genocide Or resurrection of
the dead Night of the living
dead We're hunting humans
whaooo-ooo-oo...

Misfits