There are few who deny, at what I do I am the best
For my talents are renowed far and wide
When it comes to surprises in the moonlit night

I excel without ever even trying
With the slightest little effort of my ghostlike charms
I have see 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, it's 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 began to grow
There's something out there, far from my home
A longing that I've never known


I'm a 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 Mister Unlucky
And I'm known throughout England and France


And since I am dead, I can take off my head
To recite Shakespearean quotations
No animal nor man can scream like I can

With the fury of my recitations

But who here would ever understand

That the Pumpkin King with the skeleton grin
Would tire of his crown, if they only understood
He'd give it all up if he only could


Oh, there's an empty place in my bones
That calls out for something unknown

The fame and praise come year after year
Does nothing for these empty tears