The story I tell could be straight out of Hell, but it's true because I was there. A rich jungle town ruled by Spanish crown stench of decay in the air
Now who would lay waste to a town in such haste as to leave all its riches behind? The townsfolk half-eaten and shredded to pieces \"Perhaps a large beast!\" crossed my mind
We loaded up riches and dead native bitches but men had surrounded all sides. Their teeth bared in hunger to tear us asunder black holes remain of their eyes
We gave them a fight, the fight of our lives! But our weapons were useless on them So I put down my gun, ran the fastest I'd ever run to get back to safety again
The undead rise to end our lives the frequency of this misery is every now andthen
Fight! for our gold, for our souls, for our brains Kill! these shambling hordes right in our way Run! for the hills, far away from the dead Die! by the zombies that gnaw on our heads! The undead rise to end our lives the frequency of this misery is every now andthen
Fight! for our gold, for our souls, for our brains Kill! these shambling hordes right in our way Run! for the hills, far away from the dead Die! by the zombies that gnaw on our heads!