When I get colder, skin turning grey And starts to rot away Will you still be kissing me on my missing lips, Dancing close, bones showing through my hips. If I'd been out till quarter to three Munching the family next-door, Will you still need me, will you still feed me, Oh my zombie girl. You'll have rigor too, And if you moan the word, I’ll shamble along with you. I could be handy, seeing for you When your eyes have gone. I can say grace when I go out with you Sunday lunch down in the pews. Out in the graveyard, digging up corpses, Mix them up with soy. Will you still need me, will you still feed me, Oh my zombie boy. Every summer we can rent a headstone, In the Isle of Wight, if it's not too dear We shall chop and shave Grandchildren to the bone Vera, Chuck & Dave Send me a femur, drop me some brains Fresh picked from the skull. Indicate precisely who you mean to eat Yours sincerely, wasting away We’ll hunt together down at the mall, Hunger evermore Will you still need me, will you still feed me, Oh my zombie love.
