Incinerator

Skeletons built to last in concrete

Like tombstones in these barren lands

Standing so strong in reflection

Against the pale grey sky

These suburbs are full of zombies

Infected by plague and festering boils

Foul scent of the rotting ones

The decaying remains of a happier time

Children of black coffins

Awaiting to be sincerely torn

Bones are crushed by machinery

Their dust will be spread by the storm

Inexhaustible crowds of graveyards

Condemned to a life of rats

Overwhelmed by endless torment

The ones above are laughing at you

Children of suburban wastelands

Awaiting to be ground into sand

Hopes are being crushed by machinery

Their souls are burning across the land