We’re white and pale
We’re in the jail
We are the living dead
We get a bed
We’re hardly fed
We are the living dead
A ball and chain
To cause us pain
We are the living dead
We have four walls
We are appalled
We are the living dead
We did the crime
We do the time
We are the living dead
We have no chance
To sing nor dance
We are the living dead
We curse our fate
We’re filled with hate
We are the living dead
We have no season
Rhyme nor reason
We are the living dead
We’re filled with sorrow
Today tomorrow
We are the living dead
We want the key
To set us free
We are the living dead
Then once again
We will be men
And not the living dead
The living dead
The living dead
The living dead are we
We stole the gold
We sold our soul
We live in misery
(c) varey 2013
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem