There are few who'd 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 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   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