For erudite, effortlessly sophisticated brilliance and sly wit, you can’t beat the crowd that comments on Making Light. So when they sharpen their long knives and put their keen intelligence to work on ZombiePocalypse day? Pure genius! Go over there and feast your eyes…
Got bitten in Baton Rouge, and at first I felt no pain,
And I’s could only hope for an end that might be clean.
Bobby jump started a diesel just before the zombies came,
It rode us all the way to New Orleans.
I tourniquetted my bite wound with my dirty red bandanna,
I was whimperin’ soft while Bobby sang the blues.
With every mile we ran out of time, I was holding Bobby’s hand in mine,
We both knew my death would be coming soon.
Infected’s just another word for nothing left to lose,
Nothing don’t mean nothing honey if your blood ain’t clean, now now.
And holding back the fear was easy, Lord, when he sang the blues,
You know killing time was good enough for me,
Good enough till I tried to eat my Bobby McGee.