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