Out here in the pumpkinpatch beneath the dirt I hide   To kill unknowing farmers and to strip them of their hides   Such an unlikely place for atrocities of this kind   My secret slaughterhouse is here in the garden's where I thrive   (bridge)   The orange goblins speak to me in the night   As the moon casts shadows the pumpkins come to life   (chorus)   Pick-axe in my hand, plunged into your back   Slicin off your arms and legs, murder in the punpkinpath tonight...      Dug many a shallow grave   The soil isn't very ripe   I like it when they scream so loud and beg for their lives   Such an unlikely place to rip out someone's spine   My secret slaughterhouse is here in the garden's where I thrive   (bridge)   (chorus)      (repeat chorus)   Murder in the pumpkinpatch tonight! (x3)