Hear, the unholy pulse, seep into the ground, it is the golden wave of sound. You cannot, cannot escape it now. Where, it’s from is unknown, a pulse that cannot be bound, hits a grave filled with these bones. Changing them, changing their bodies now. Bugs, they gather and they swarm, attach the bones like before, bring them back to life somehow, you feel them, you feel them rising now.
They are cognitive, they just barely live, they are the walking dead, and we woke them, we wake the dead. They rise from the grave, bugs eat away decay, they, swarm to form its’ brain, to control again, and infest our land.
There is a frequency, now it has been released, right into all of these graves, waking the, waking the dead now. It, Rides among the air, the waves then will disappear, so deep into this hollow ground, waking the, waking the dead now.
They are cognitive, they just barely live, they are the walking dead, and we woke them, we wake the dead. They rise from the grave, bugs eat away decay, they, swarm to form its’ brain, to control again, and infest our land.
The waves of sound will attract all the swarms, to unify them and make the dead reborn, our skeletons are just blueprints for them, to give them ideals of what to strive for. This is a camouflage amongst us humans, as we do not tend to pay any attention. They can walk with us with malice intentions, as if they live in another dimension.
There is a frequency, now it has been released, right into all of these graves, waking the, waking the dead now. It, Rides among the air, the waves then will disappear, so deep into this hollow ground, waking the, waking the dead now.