The Deadhouse

Out here in the pumpkin patch, 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
The orange goblins
Speak to me in the night
As the moon casts shadows
The pumpkins come to life
Pick axe in my hand
Plunged into your back
Slicing off your arms and legs
Murder in the pumpkin patch tonight, 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
The orange goblins
Speak to me in the night
As the moon casts shadows
The pumpkins come to life
Pick axe in my hand
Plunged into your back
Slicing off your arms and legs
Murder in the pumpkin patch
Pick axe in my hand
Plunged into your back
Slicing off your arms and legs
Murder in the pumpkin patch tonight
Murder in the pumpkin patch tonight
Murder in the pumpkin patch tonight, yeah
Murder in the pumpkin patch tonight

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