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Nights of the Living Dead

Well, the high school kids, they're all fucked up

Touching each other, oh my God

Yeah, and forty ounces was never enough

We want to pass out in your yard, we want to pass outDressing in drag, your best friend's clothes

While boys kissed boys in hotel rooms

Oh, and just when we thought we were no longer lost

They kicked us out into the dirty streets of AtlantaSo it's Friday night down on North Avenue

Where the gas station parking lot prostitutes

Tried to fix their hair in our rear view mirrors

You know, we're just trying to get to the club and shake our assesA caravan of kids, some big old mess

On an old wooden dock, oh, we're bored to death

We've got a bottle of wine, a fresh pack of smokes

We're going to end up screaming about some midnight garage saleGod, put down your gun, can't you see we're dead?

God, put down your hand, we're not listening

The microphone cut off

So we're screaming at the top of our lungs.We are born so fresh, a golden prize

Until you scrape that knee and quickly realize

That you're lost in a fog on your way to death

Oh, a thick black line, a thick black lineSo you better speak up, better raise that voice

Come on, scream loud, all you girls and boys

Let's get wild, wild, wild, let's rejoice

C'mon, c'mon, I want to hear that fucking noiseOh, the push and pull of everything

Oh, this nightmare of electricity

We are the living dead, yeah, the living dead.

That's the way it is, That's the way it's always beenOh, that snake slithered past my house today

Oh, I heard he caught you on a dark highway

No, the clouds didn't part, they just grew into a storm

I can still hear the sound of the rolling thunderGod, put down your gun, can't you see we're dead?

God, put down your hand, we're not listening

God, put down your gun, can't you see we're dead?

I said, "God put down your hand, we're not listening, oh, we never were"I want to fuck it up

I feel so alive and I feel

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