You walk the street where the asphalt is torn.
A city of ghosts in the gray of the morn.
The billboards are peeling and stripped of their gold.
A story of hunger that's never been told.
You clutch on your rifle with knuckles of white.
One flicker of movement in pale morning light.
The wind carries copper and salt in the air.
A heavy vibration and a desperate stare.
Run through the red zone and don't look behind.
Leave all the ruins and the wreckage to find.
Sprinting for safety while the sirens all scream.
Tearing the fabric of a broken old dream.
You find an old diner with coffee gone cold.
The secrets of shelter are starting to unfold.
A map on the table with a red ink design.
A desperate gamble on a thin jagged line.
Run through the red zone and don't look behind.
Leave all the ruins and the wreckage to find.
Sprinting for safety while the sirens all scream.
Tearing the fabric of a broken old dream.
The ground starts to tremble and the monsters arrive.
Only the coldest and the fastest survive.
Lock in the target and let the lead fly.
Under a bruised and a blood-spattered sky.
You remember the porch and the scent of the pine.
A life that you lived in a different design.
Now you are fighting for a single breath more.
Bashing your shoulder against a locked door.
The skyline is jagged and blackened by soot.
The world is a garden with a poisonous root.
You look to your left and you see a new friend.
Walking together to the very last end.
Run through the red zone and don't look behind.
Leave all the ruins and the wreckage to find.
Sprinting for safety while the sirens all scream.
Tearing the fabric of a broken old dream.
Just one more mile.
Hold the line now.
Red zone fever.
