I can’t help being a Zombie

I walk mechanical
Just like a puppet on a string
Coz I could never be classed as normal
but I don’t worry bout a thing
You see I am a freak of nature
so passerby’s are scared of me
I crawled from out of a tombstone
I just wanted to be free

Last night when the town clock struck twelve I had an urge to dig and delve
I scratched and clawed with all my might not thinking I would cause a fright
Yet as I surfaced from the earthy soil worn out from my macabre toil
People screamed and grown men ran when they got sight of this madman

I guess I must look scarey with my gruesome appearance
but I can’t help being a zombie
I won’t cause any interference
If only I could rid this intimidating look
but I know this would be impossible 
after all I am a spook
So alas I will return to my hell hole in my grave
and the next time I want abit of air I shall just have to behave