The Dead Don't Shuffle

Sunset Grove has a zombie problem, and a mortician with a shovel has the answer.

When night has fallen and ponies sleep
Among the dead there's one who creeps.
Where skeletons rot and corpses fester
See him smile like a jester.

As the dark night draws moonbeams
He enters the crypt and runs toward screams.
When night falls the dead will rise
Only to face a second demise.