Dark bits.

A zombie caught me at half past five,
"What's it like to be alive?"

I didn't know quite what to say.
"I try to take it day by day."

It moaned and scratched a little bit,
"Don't you ever think of it?"

So I bit the zombie at half past five,
thinking it might turn it alive.

It tasted green, of brine and slime,
"Why'd you do that,' the zombie whined?

"I thought it might just do the trick,
but all it did was make me sick."

It lunged at me, all drool and slaver.
"Allow me to return the favor!"

Now I'm undead at half past five,
and miss the time I was alive.