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
Slicin' 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
Slicin' off your arms and legs
Murder in the pumpkin-patch
Pick-axe in my hand
Plunged into your back
Slicin' off your arms and legs
Murder in the pumpkin-patch tonight
Murder in the pumpkin-patch tonight
Murder in the pumpkin-patch tonight
Murder in the pumpkin-patch tonight