• There are few who'd deny,
    At what I do I am the best
    For my talents are renowned far and wide
    I excel without ever even trying.


    With the slightest little effort of my ghostlike charms
    I have seen grown men give out a shriek
    With the wave of my hand ,and a well-placed moan,
    Ihave swept the very bravest offt their feet.


    Yet year after year,it's the same routine
    And I grow so weay 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've never known.


    I'm a master of fright,and a demon of light
    And I'll scare you right out of your pants,boy
    To a guy in Kentucky,I'm mister unlucky
    And I'm known throughout England and France,boy


    And since I am dead,I can take off my head
    To recite Shakespearean quotations
    No animal or man can scream like I can
    With the fury of my recitation.


    But who here would ever understand
    That the Pumpkin King with the skeleton grin
    Would tire of his crown_if they only understood
    He would give it all up if he only could
    ...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
    ...these empty tears....