All my friends run away...
All my friends run a way
By my side they fear to stay
I don’t know why they run
It’s not like I’ve got a gun
Perhaps its my appetite for human flesh
As you may know its best when eaten fresh
I don’t mean to fill their minds with dread and gloom
Yet they always run and hide when I begin to consume
First I bash their skulls with a stone
Then I eat them skin and bone
Sometimes I cut them open with a hacksaw
Always sure to eat their insides nice and raw
Maybe eating my friends is bad
It does seem to make their parents sad
In fact I would stop if I could
Trouble is they taste so damn good
(This was part of a series I started featuring a character named, Frederick Zombie. He was a boy of 8 years who had the unfortunate occurrence of being turned in to one of the undead. He lived in a cemetery with a number of other strange and macabre characters. Like so many things, I never got around to finishing it…)
By my side they fear to stay
I don’t know why they run
It’s not like I’ve got a gun
Perhaps its my appetite for human flesh
As you may know its best when eaten fresh
I don’t mean to fill their minds with dread and gloom
Yet they always run and hide when I begin to consume
First I bash their skulls with a stone
Then I eat them skin and bone
Sometimes I cut them open with a hacksaw
Always sure to eat their insides nice and raw
Maybe eating my friends is bad
It does seem to make their parents sad
In fact I would stop if I could
Trouble is they taste so damn good
(This was part of a series I started featuring a character named, Frederick Zombie. He was a boy of 8 years who had the unfortunate occurrence of being turned in to one of the undead. He lived in a cemetery with a number of other strange and macabre characters. Like so many things, I never got around to finishing it…)