They Know Who Not to Touch

THEY KNOW WHO NOT TO TOUCH [INTRO — WHISPERED] Look around. Bodies in the streets. Signs telling people where to go. Doors they say are safe— But nobody gets out. And the fucking zombies? They already know. They know who not to touch. [VERSE 1] Walk through the ruins, see the bodies stacked, Evacuation sign but there ain't no way back. Guild at the checkpoint, rifles in the rain, Tell civilians “move” while they tighten the chain. Fear in the streets, power in their hands, Whole damn population trapped inside their plans. They don't need a cage when they control the gate, Don't need to pull the trigger when they weaponize fate. They call it protection— BULLSHIT. Call it order— BULLSHIT. Call it safety while they're choosing who can live. They spread the serum, then they spread the lies, Turn panic into currency, turn death into disguise. Bodies on the pavement, warnings on the wall, And somehow every fucking Guild member walks through it all. Tell me that's coincidence. Tell me I'm blind. 'Cause I watched those infected pass them by. [PRE-CHORUS] I see the pattern. I see the game. Different rules for different names. They want obedience. They want control. But you can't bury truth when the fucking world still shows. [CHORUS] THEY KNOW WHO NOT TO TOUCH! The dead don't scare me— It's the living ones with power! THEY KNOW WHO NOT TO TOUCH! Build another checkpoint, tighten every fucking border! FEAR! That's how they keep us down! CONTROL! That's how they own this town! DOMINANCE! That's the language of the throne! When the whole damn system burns— WHO THE FUCK ARE YOU GONNA CONTROL? [VERSE 2] Every zone, every contract, pressure climbing up, Some areas hit harder, some just never let up. You trigger the contract and the battlefield grows, Another fucking kill zone where nobody knows. Then the Guild strikes— And the nightmare begins. Turns a piece of the map into hell from within. Same streets. Same ground. Different rules now. The whole fucking area gets swallowed somehow. Nightmare Zone. Fifth level. No warning. No peace. They drop a Strike Boss and unleash the beast. It's not just survival. It's a message in the design: We can turn your fucking safe space into a death zone anytime. And where the fuck are the children? Why's the silence so loud? No little footsteps. No small bodies in the crowd. Don't tell me that's nothing. Don't tell me it's design. When a whole piece of humanity just disappears from sight. Maybe they didn't turn. Maybe they never had the chance. Maybe families hit the checkpoint and never made it past the hands. Maybe the Guild decided control meant sacrifice. And every body left behind was just another fucking price. [CHORUS] THEY KNOW WHO NOT TO TOUCH! They know who gets protected! THEY KNOW WHO NOT TO TOUCH! They know who gets rejected! FEAR! Turn it into a weapon! CONTROL! Keep the population begging! DOMINANCE! Keep the weak beneath the throne! But you can't fucking rule forever when the ruins speak your name! [BRIDGE — LOW] They don't need chains. They built the walls inside your head. They don't need soldiers when you're already scared to move. They don't need truth when they control what you're allowed to see. They don't need to kill everybody— Just enough to make everybody else obey. But here's the fucking problem. I noticed. [BREAKDOWN] I. NOTICED. The bodies. I. NOTICED. The signs. I. NOTICED. Who gets attacked— And who gets left alive. I noticed the fear. I noticed the lies. I noticed the Guild walking through the dead without a scratch in sight. THE ZOMBIES KNOW. THE WORLD KNOWS. WE FUCKING KNOW. [VERSE 3] You can dress oppression up in uniforms and gold, Call it “necessary,” sell it to the cold. Put a fucking sign up saying “THIS WAY TO SAFETY,” Then block the fucking exit while you manufacture panic. Weaponize fear. Weaponize death. Choke a population 'til there's nothing fucking left. Every body is evidence. Every wall remembers. Every empty home is screaming through the fucking center. This isn't survival. This is aftermath. This is what remains when the powerful have had their laugh. And I'm fucking furious. Not because the monsters came. Because the monsters learned which side to leave alone. [FINAL CHORUS] THEY KNOW WHO NOT TO TOUCH! THEY KNOW WHO NOT TO TOUCH! FEAR! CONTROL! DOMINANCE! You can build your walls. You can tighten your chains. You can bury the bodies. You can manufacture pain. You can turn another zone into a fucking nightmare. You can send another boss. You can flood another area. But you can't fucking hide what the ruins expose. The zombies know. The world knows. And now— WE FUCKING KNOW TOO. [OUTRO — WHISPERED] The signs lied. The checkpoints lied. The Guild lied. But the bodies? They never did. They know who not to touch.