Virus from Mars

Now I must testify, when im gonna die

I dont wanna be buried, I dont wanna be fried

With a roll of 2 dice, lets see, wouldn't it be nice

Forget about your worries, put your parents on ice

Bodies left frozen, hoping to be chosen

For the future clones, lets say just supposing

Corpse re-animated, old skin laminated

Brains cultivated, but your veins didn't make it

Imagine the ramifications of zombified nations

Digging up the cemeteries, looking for foreign territories

Colonise the skies, with clones of your eyes

Bones of your thighs just rest in demise