Maybe a poetry-creation
Sometimes the result of fantasy
Maybe a writer’s invention
Tomorrow it will be reality
Devouring only human spirit
Alien invasion
Glutton beasts all over
Every nation
Thommyknockers, brain-eaters
See the day of doom
Thommyknockers, brain-eaters
See the blood on the moon
Maybe they live in a deadman’s swamp
Foul treasure under their knees
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That’s where the ghosts of men once killed
Guard the fantastic seeds
There, where no colour can be
They’re waiting to come
Jungle of fantasy
Restless on the run
Thommyknockers, brain-eaters
See the day of doom
Thommyknockers, brain-eaters
See the blood on the moon
Black letters telling us more and more
We make the same mistakes just like we did before
Thommyknockers, brain-eaters
See the day of doom
Thommyknockers, brain-eaters
See the blood on the moon
Thommyknockers, brain-eaters
See the day of doom
Thommyknockers, brain-eaters
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