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Sepulchral silence, in the white room

smell of death coming through the door

awake without knowing, It´s not a good sign

you feel the loneliness, you have afraid to think

trembling without control, attentive to sounds

you crawl on the ground, searching for an exit

hundreds of corpses, rotting in the street

some gets up, some look at you

are not human, they are rotting corpses

searching food in you, primeval instinct

hunt in herds, always want more

You try to escape, there where no go

find brutal weapons, weapons to war

you have to kill if you want to survive

you don't have to think, you have to kill

you can't stop, you can't rest

you have to flee, try to scape

you can't stand, you have to follow

break through them, break through killing

break through bones, massacring bodies.