Instale o Steam
iniciar sessão
|
idioma
简体中文 (Chinês simplificado)
繁體中文 (Chinês tradicional)
日本語 (Japonês)
한국어 (Coreano)
ไทย (Tailandês)
Български (Búlgaro)
Čeština (Tcheco)
Dansk (Dinamarquês)
Deutsch (Alemão)
English (Inglês)
Español-España (Espanhol — Espanha)
Español-Latinoamérica (Espanhol — América Latina)
Ελληνικά (Grego)
Français (Francês)
Italiano (Italiano)
Bahasa Indonesia (Indonésio)
Magyar (Húngaro)
Nederlands (Holandês)
Norsk (Norueguês)
Polski (Polonês)
Português (Portugal)
Română (Romeno)
Русский (Russo)
Suomi (Finlandês)
Svenska (Sueco)
Türkçe (Turco)
Tiếng Việt (Vietnamita)
Українська (Ucraniano)
Relatar um problema com a tradução
There's a zombie on your lawn
There's a zombie on your lawn
There's a zombie on your lawn
We don't want zombies on the lawn
I know your type: tall, dark, and dead
You want to bite all the petals off of my head
And then eat the brains of
the one who planted me here
I'm just a sunflower but see
me power an entire infantry
You like the taste of brains
we don't like zombies
I used to play football
Road cones protect my head
I have a screen-door shield
We are the undead
(repeat chorus)
Maybe it's time to reevaluate
I know you have a lot of food on your plate
Brains are quite rich in cholesterol
You're dead so it doesn't matter,
Instead we'll use this solar power
to make a lawn defense at any hour
I like the tricycle
There's butter on my head
I'm gonna eat your brains
(repeat chorus)