Hit the dead, for they won't listen
Hit the dead, for they don't know
Hit the dead, they're all in prison
Hit the dead before they go
Dead are living without stress
Dead are living with control
They're living without effort,
they're living without a soul
New decisions, deep incisions,
cut the flesh and look inside
You'll see nothing, they're all empty,
nothing there, not much to hide
Shake the head and nothing rattles
Open eyes and see their stare
Ain't their words not good consumption?
Witness functions, they don't care
Hate the time, hate the time,
New decisions, three big decisions
Half the flesh in the beast's eye
You'll see nothing, they're all empty
Nothing there, not much to hide
See the dead and feel their bodies
Touch the dead, they are so cold
See the dead obeying orders
Walking slowly, no direction
Can exist in large proportions
Can exist but don't be kind
