Details: Written by: Gary Johnston; Category: Songs; Published: 11 January 2025

Lyrics

(Verse 1)
In the cold, dark ground, they’ve slept so long,
Silent whispers, the night feels wrong,
The moon’s blood red, shadows start to creep,
As the earth below wakes from endless sleep.

(Pre-Chorus)
Bones rattle, hands reach from the dirt,
Eyes hollow, but they still feel the hurt,
From the depths of the grave, they rise once more,
The dead are alive, and they're knocking on your door.

(Chorus)
The dead come back, through the mist they roam,
They’ve left their tombs, they’re not alone,
A hollow cry echoes through the night,
The dead are alive, in the pale moonlight.
Rise, rise, rise again,
No peace for the wicked, no way to the end.
Rise, rise, through the dark and the dread,
The night belongs to the living dead.

(Verse 2)
Dusty tombstones cracked and worn,
From forgotten graves, the undead are born,
The wind’s a wail, the air grows still,
In the heart of the town, the dead bring chill.

(Pre-Chorus)
Graveyard eyes that never blink,
Shadows dance where the living sink,
Their cold hands stretch for the warm,
The dead return in ghostly swarm.

(Chorus)
The dead come back, through the mist they roam,
They’ve left their tombs, they’re not alone,
A hollow cry echoes through the night,
The dead are alive, in the pale moonlight.
Rise, rise, rise again,
No peace for the wicked, no way to the end.
Rise, rise, through the dark and the dread,
The night belongs to the living dead.

(Bridge)
Once they were forgotten, laid down to rest,
Now they hunger with no heart in their chest,
From the grave they crawl, from the dust they rise,
In this haunted hour, see the fear in their eyes.

(Chorus)
The dead come back, through the mist they roam,
They’ve left their tombs, they’re not alone,
A hollow cry echoes through the night,
The dead are alive, in the pale moonlight.
Rise, rise, rise again,
No peace for the wicked, no way to the end.
Rise, rise, through the dark and the dread,
The night belongs to the living dead.

(Outro)
Rise, rise, hear their call,
In the night, the dead stand tall,
Rise, rise, from their tomb they’ll climb,
The dead are alive, and they’re taking their time.