Well smokers are really tall
And boomers big exploding balls
The charger is built for power
Where as tanks like to tower
Over everything it sees
Poor witches keep sobbing
"Why do you hate me?"
Stupid jockeys they laugh
At the infection's aftermath
Ninja hunters they growl
They're always on the prowl
A spitter's acid goes everywhere
Seemingly comes outta nowhere
Commons are a bitch in a horde
But good enough when your bored
Unlucky survivors, going through hell
What happened to them? only time will tell