Surfing Through the Eyes of the Dead Lyrics by Goreshack
Surf.Mosh.Kill.
0
Gather 'round all you boils and ghouls For a camp fire story that'll make you drool I'm not the Crypt Keeper, I'm just creep But I'll tell you 'bout the Witchdoctor of Wormwood Beach He's wheelchair bound and he has no legs He doesn't hang at the mall, he lives in a cave He gnaws on rats and crabs and the occasional bat His rotten dreads dangle down to the crack of his ass Came from a tribe that ran rum and guns Exiled for blasting on the bone carved drums Shrunken heads and fetishes hang from his sleeves What's his name you ask? His name is Steve! The cave was one at the end of the beach Near the one where Goreshack came into being He watched all day as the zombies moshed and banged Some new kind of action is what Steve craved He gathered up a cauldron and a few supplies This type of magic takes a special sacrifice Bats assholes and some tan rats hides Hipster bones, washed in fresh with the tide Then he got crazy, and shit in the vat And topped it all off with some fresh ear wax He stirred the concotion with an extra long pole Creating a potion meant for mind control He drank the brew and his eyes lit up Had he made a mistake? Oh Holy Fuck A haze took over, he was in another brain As a zombie he dug his way up out of the sand Now what would Steve do with his new legs and feet? Dance or run or jog in place or stroll on down the beach? Only one thing on his mind, he didn't give a shit He'd surf all day and night and sleaze on skanky bitches He grabbed a board and started to thrash The biggest of waves, he hacked and he slashed A shark tried to eat him, he didn't give a fuck He hexed that piece of shit into a retarded duck We just couldn't believe What we were seeing We heard a laugh come from the caves And knew it was that voodoo creep He burst from his cave, and released his control Spinning in circles, and flashing his pole So us and Steve the Witchdoctor became best bros He hung out with the Weredude, and made jewelry out of toes He surfed all day and night, he would never behave Some cops tried to bust him, but he cursed them with the AIDS He was surfing through the eyes of the dead Mind controlling zombies is his only way to shred That concludes our campfire tale, and if you don't believe We can head on down to Wormwood, and hit the tide with Steve!
About “Surfing Through the Eyes of the Dead” by Goreshack
Read the complete lyrics to "Surfing Through the Eyes of the Dead" by Goreshack from the album "Surf.Mosh.Kill.". On Lyrks you can follow along with the full text, explore the artist's discography, and discover related songs. The track is often categorized under Pop.
"Surfing Through the Eyes of the Dead" is performed by Goreshack. from the album "Surf.Mosh.Kill." This page provides the full lyric text for fans who want to sing along, study the songwriting, or compare versions across releases. Lyrks organizes lyrics by artist and song slug so you can bookmark and share a stable URL.
Music lyrics help listeners connect with emotion, narrative, and rhythm in a track. Whether you are learning English, researching a favorite chorus, or preparing for karaoke, having accurate line breaks and section labels (verse, chorus, bridge) makes the experience easier. We link to the official artist profile on Lyrks where available, including biography snippets, top songs, and chart placements when we have that data.
If you enjoy "Surfing Through the Eyes of the Dead", explore more songs by Goreshack using the links below. Chart and trending pages on Lyrks highlight what listeners are searching for this week. For copyright or correction requests, see our DMCA and contact pages.
"Surfing Through the Eyes of the Dead" is credited to Goreshack. Songwriting credits may include additional writers listed on the release; check the credits section on this page for linked collaborators.
"Surfing Through the Eyes of the Dead" appears on "Surf.Mosh.Kill.".
Visit the Goreshack artist page at /artist/goreshack for biography, popular tracks, and links to more lyric pages.
