"There are few who deny at what I do I am the best For my talents are renowned far and wide When it comes to surprises in the moonlit night.. I excell without ever even trying. With the slightest bit of effort of my ghost like charms I have seen grown men give out a shriek With a wave of my hand and a well placed moan I have swept the very bravest off their feet.
Yet year after year its the same routine And I grow so weary of the sound of screams And I JACK THE PUMPKIN KING.. Have grown so tired of the same old thing
Oh somewhere deep inside of these bones An emptiness begins to grow There's something out there far from my home A longing that I've never known
I'm the master of fright And a demon of light And I'll scare you right out of your pants To a guy in kentucky, I'm Mr. Unlucky And I'm known throughout England and France. And since I am dead, I can take off my head To recite Shakesperana quotation. No animal or man can scream like I can.. With the fury of my recitations."
But who here would ever understand That the pumpkin with the skeleton grin Would tire of his crown. If they only understand.. He'd give it all up if he only could.
OH there's an empty place inside of my bones That calls out for something unknown The fame and praise come year after year Does nothing for these empty tears..."
lostangelssong & 