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  1. Walking Dead

From the recording STATE OF THE UNION

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Lyrics

WALKING DEAD

If imitation is suicide,
We’re an army of the walking dead,
With designer boots upon our feet,
Carbon copy caps upon our heads.

And it’s hup, two, three, four,
Up to the final door.
Match their strides, rep for rep,
Stay in line, stay in step.

If all our envy is ignorance,
We’re a navy of the most naïve,
Playing our beat-the-devil war games,
While Satan is laughing up his sleeve.

And it’s hup, two, three, four,
Up to the final door.
Match their strides, rep for rep,
Stay in line, stay in step.

If it’s true no man is an island,
We’re a coast guard of landlocked cold souls,
Clutching to our skeleton ship masts,
Staring at the stacked deck full of holes.

And it’s hup, two, three, four,
Up to the final door.
Match their strides, rep for rep,
Stay in line, stay in step.

If minutes mean much more than money,
We’re Marines trapped on a foreign shore.
No one back home even knows we’re here,
And it’s not clear what we’re fighting for.

And it’s hup, two, three, four,
Up to the final door.
Match their strides, rep for rep,
Stay in line, stay in step.

If we let all of our music die
Within us, we’re just mute cosmic mules
Hurtling through the zirconium zone,
Past blasé and blind to the real jewels.

And it’s hup, two, three, four,
Up to the final door.
Match their strides, rep for rep,
Stay in line, stay in step.

And it’s hup, two, three, four,
Up to the final door.
Match their strides, rep for rep,
Stay in line, stay in step.

Copyright © 2003 Lex Zaleta