El Ataque de Los Vivos Murientes

I see a toothless zombie on the street
Walking through my neighborhood among the people
She takes out a pipe and steals a wallet from a criminal
She's not alone, she's just hot

She has a grave next to the cemetery
Since it's made of old cardboard, it didn't cost her any money
She suffers like everyone a bad pact with death
She's not alive, she's dying

Get a job, an old lady tells her
She takes out a knife and skins her
Dress more decently, people tell her
And she twists a corkscrew into their foreheads

There are no brains left even in the butcher shop
With everyone's help, it was the horror of each day
There are no more living, there are no more people
Now there's only room for the living dead

We have a grave next to the cemetery
Since we're not dead, no one wants us inside
We go out and drink to forget this life
So slow and rotten, so slow and rotten