Well would you help me out kind sir?
I think I died
Or would you like to just de-fer
Please stay, don’t run and hide

Guess it’s too late to get heart started
I’m feeling low
Nothing but dread
On the bright side body’s not interred
I’m undead

But what’s the smell you have? It has me hooked
Take off your cap and
Don’t cover up your head
I’ll just go find a spoon
I think I need a bite
Cos’ I’m undead

Now I won’t treat you like hors d'oeuvre
Or some fondue
For that would sadly be bad err
Do you like roux?

For you, I’m sad to say I’m hungry
No, you can’t go
No need to beg
You can’t reason with a creature
Who’s undead

Do you prefer to fry or steam when cooked?
I fry with fat not
Some artificial spread
I’m not uncultured ghoul
My taste ain’t gone on strike
I’m just undead.

---creepy eclectic piano solo---

I’ll be discrete and not too gory
Blood, though, will flow
Life it will ebb
I have napkins, yes I’m quite tidy
For undead

Well some may say that I’m a rotting kook
The way I hunger for
The innards of your head
It’s one of nature’s rules
You crave the living kind
When you’re undead