Procreated from Plainfield Cemetery

A toxic nucleus In the heart of a town Hands, caked in dirt All reaching out To welcome you And make you better Fit for forlorn ways The poisonous touch That hears you scream And life burns away So there's no thought anymore It's a herd That died long ago Mindless, soulless One much like another It's obvious after the fact But somehow you didn't know When the dead grabbed you With shallow instincts And base hunger That procreated in the graveyard Graves mark the still living And it keeps spreading out A disease, a dance of conformity Insidious in nature As it claims your future And makes you the same