"Welcome to my sermon of screams.

No saints tonight—only survivors.

Let the dead teach the living…

amen to that beat!"

Yeah, flashlight flickin’, breath tight, heart skippin’,

Campfire talkin’, they laughin’, plot slippin’,

Split up? Dumb luck—yeah that’s tradition,

"Let’s check the basement,"—fatal decision.

Blood moon drippin’, they sippin’, not listenin’,

Zombies in the mist, and they still kissin’,

One got bit, but he hid the incision,

Whole crew doomed by a bad admission.

Quick scene cut—panic in stereo,

Hero wannabe with a fake bravado,

Screamin’, “I got this!”—nah, he don’t though,

Brains on the wall like a Banksy logo.

Cliché moves on replay motion,

Run in the dark, slow feet—no notion,

Try to call help but there’s no connection,

They all die dumb—natural selection.

“Wait—what’s that sound?” echo bouncin’ off tiles,

Heard a scream, then a “Nooo!” stretchin’ miles,

Flashlight drops, wet floors, blood trails spiral,

“Go on without me!” — yeah, that line’s viral.

“Tell my mama I tried…” — cinematic sigh,

Zombie bite framed in a tear-streaked eye,

“Don’t you close that door!”—then the hinges cry,

Curtain call death in a B-movie sky.

One says, “We can make it!” right before doom,

Camera pans wide—now it’s five in the room,

Then four, then two, then the credits bloom,

Same dumb script, same tombstone tune.

He’s shoutin’, “I can fight ‘em!”—nah, he froze,

Chainsaw choked, then the power goes,

“Not like this…”—final words in prose,

Fade to black—brains and bad decisions compose.

We gotta learn from the ones who fell,

Echoes of the screams still ring that bell,

All those fools in the flame and spell,

Paid that price so we don’t as well.

We gotta learn from the ones who fade,

Every dumb move that the night replayed,

Their last mistakes, that lesson they made —

We live on ‘cause the price was paid.

First rule — don’t talk ‘bout “makin’ it home,”

That line alone’ll carve your tombstone.

Keep your mouth shut, let the fear be known,

No smiles in the dark, just grit and tone.

Don’t split paths, that’s suicide math,

Stick to the crew, keep eyes on the wrath.

No hero stance with a bat or staff,

Be smart, not bold — that’s the survival craft.

If the lights flicker — don’t investigate,

Just relocate, don’t hesitate.

That “who’s there?” move? Yeah, that seals your fate,

Curiosity kills — let the door vibrate.

And if you trip — don’t scream, just crawl,

No one’s waitin’ if you stall and fall.

Keep breath low, keep mind enthralled,

Break that flag, survive it all.

Yeah, yeah—see the chaos pop like soda fizz,

Brains on the lens, still we love that biz,

Popcorn flyin’, crowd all hiss,

It’s dumb, it’s sick—but that’s showbiz.

Jump-scare tempo, I’m rappin’ like ammo,

Fast as a scream through a broken camo,

Fake blood splash in a cinema shadow,

Still cheer loud when the head go BLAMMO!

Adrenaline pump, heart drumline thumpin’,

We root for the doom, yeah the end’s still somethin’,

Watchin’ ‘em fall but our pulse still jumpin’,

Fear and fun, that mix so bumpin’.

So let the undead dance, roll that reel,

Every bite’s art, every gasp feel real,

It’s death on repeat but that’s the thrill—

Zombies eat dumb dreams, and we love the meal.

We laugh, we cheer, yeah the credits near,

Popcorn flyin’, we forget the fear,

High-fivin’ loud like the coast is clear —

But wait… somethin’ crawlin’ in my ear.

Neck twitch once, then the vision bend,

Smiles freeze up, can’t pretend,

Thought it was fun — now it’s creepin’ in,

Maybe we the sequel… let it begin.

Heartbeat glitch, crowd starts to fade,

Hands go cold like a deal was made,

Fun turns fear, that price unpaid —

Roll those credits… I think I’ve changed.

Amen…