Pet Sematary

Ok, wir spielen ein Lied für euch
und für Joey Ramone,
der zu Ostern leider verstorben ist.

Under the arc of the weather stain boards,
ancient goblins, and warlords.
Come out of the ground, not making a sound,
the smell of death is all around.
And the nights come and the cold wind blows,
no one cares and nobody knows.

I don't want to be buried in a pet semetery.
I don't want to live my life again.

I'll follow Victor to a sacred place,
there ain't no dream I can escape.
Molars and fangs and clicking of bones,
spirits moaning among the tombstones.
When the night has come and the
moon is bright,
someone cries and something ain't right.

I don't want to be buried in a pet semetery.
I don't want to live my life again.
Oh no.

The moon is full, the air is still,
all of a sudden I feel a chill.
Victor is grinning, flesh rotting away,
skeletons dance, I curse this day.
And on the night when the wolves cry out,
listen close and you can hear me shout.

I don't want to be buried in a pet semetery.
I don't want to live my life again.
Oh no.