Mr Pumpkin Head

And Pumpkin Head said ye be dead, a coffin be your bed Should you fail to sense my zest for all your juices red ’tis not the night that you should fear, but I when I be near So keep em peeled if snorts and squeals on this dark night you hear For I be fair, like maiden’s hair and offer half a chance I travel not in silence as I scheme my lustful dance For sounds of bats and hungry rats should cause no midnight chill Unlike my breath through jaws of death; unlike my howl so shrill So walk head high and nonchalant as though I might be fooled Others made that same mistake as for their blood I drooled Your single hope of longer life if this night you’re the one Is prick em up for every sound and should you hear me… run And hold your breath for fear of death with each dark door you pass My cry is but the voice of hell like razor claws on glass And should your path and mine not cross and you retire to bed Be thankful that you were not bled by Mr Pumpkin Head