A sly crew of men, some young and some old
None of which were strangers, to the night
The troubled youths of today, they'll lie and so bold
All of which were wizzes, at carving with a knife
The Pumpkin Carver's are all fuckin crazy
And they most certainly band together
They'll slice you up and about it not be lazy
Wise up BOY, it's perfect pumpkin carving weather
They hardly ever travel all alone
And are rarely seen during the day
They are chilling to the bone
Is the least about them one can say
Don't leave anything behind
Or they'll scoop IT, and you up
They'll take anything they can find
And use it to keep you, AND your mouth shut
They're vicious awnry and mean
And really rotten to the core
Have killed so many tweens
Could open a pumpkin carving store
Now the Pumpkin Carvers are not ALL pure evil
There's even some things that give them joy
But they love to say then make you squeal:
"You ain't no Pumpkin Carver, BOY!
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