The Land of the Living Dead

The sun will set,
The morning will flee.
The night will come,
With no stars and moon.

On the land of the living,
The dead will rise.
On the land of the dead,
The living will rest.

In the night call them,
In the darkness bind them.
Forever they will slumber,
In the Land of the Living Dead.

Copyright © 2003 JC John Sese Cuneta.