Key: B
Introduction:
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There are few who would deny at what I do I am the best
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For my talents are renowned far and wide.
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When it comes to surprises in the moonlit night
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I accel without ever even trying.
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With the slightest little effort of my ghostlike charm
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I've seen grown men give out a shriek
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With a wave of my hand and a well placed moan
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I have swept the very bravest off their feet.
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Yet year after year, it's the same old cheer
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And I grow so weary of the sound of screams
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And I, Jack, the Pump-kin King
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Have grown so tired of the same old thing
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Oh, somewhere deep inside of these bones
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An emptiness began to grow
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There's something out there, far from my home
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A longing that I've never known
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I'm a master of fright, and a demon of light
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And I'll scare you right out of your pants
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To a guy in Kentucky, I'm Mister Unlucky
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And I'm known throughout England and France
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And since I am dead, I can take off my head
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To recite Shakespearean quotations
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No animal nor man can scream like I can
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With the fury of my recitations
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But who here would ever understand
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That the Pumpkin King with the skeleton grin
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Would tire of his crown, if they only understood
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He'd give it all up if he only could
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Oh, there's an empty place in my bones
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That calls out for something unknown
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The fame and praise come year after year
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Does nothing for these empty tears