When I'm a ghost what spot will I haunt? Will it be a shit hole? Will it be a dump? Will it be an ice parlor, or maybe a tree stump? When I'm a ghost what spot will I haunt? Lighthouse or a bowling alley? Probably won't be bright and sunny. Then again it might get lonely, maybe an old shoe? When I'm a ghost what spot will I haunt? Will I be clear? Will I be headless? Is the afterlife really ever-endless? If so, I suppose it's worth a thought: when I'm a ghost what spot will I haunt?

She's no an ordinary witch. She doesn't fly around on a broomstick, or have a triangular-shaped hat. She's got none of that, not even the black cat Real witches walk the woods naked. See a little baby, well I'm going to take it. Grind it up and eat it; rub its blood on my body. Communicate with goats; taking kids from their mommies. Real witches walk the woods naked. We’re not good looking, and we’re greasy as bacon. We drive children crazy; sometimes we’re levitating. Real witches walk the woods naked.

Let me warn you about something that exists: Girl Scout Troop 666. They got a bag full of treats, but they’re hags full of tricks. Girl Scout Troop 666. Oh no, oh yeah, look out! My Sister-in-Christ, have you seen their horns? Black ram leader and the devil born. If you’re not dead already, you’ll be shitting bricks with Girl Scout Troop 666. God damn, oh my, watch out! In a tuberculosis cure house they had their start. Pin a bloody badge through your quivering heart. These infernal flirts in their pleated skirts, like a Venus Flytrap you’re gonna get hurt. Oh dear, oh boy, I’m gone! Follow her back to her tent, but you want to abort. They’re circling the fire with a snarl and a snort. They’ve got no cookies, and under the skin a singing banshee monster is hidden within.

Taking out my trash bin, yeah. Walking to the dumpster, yeah. Take a peak inside there, I see Eddie Munster, woah-oh. Eddie Munster’s in my dumpster, oh-no. Poor old Eddie, this must be a new low. The acting gig got him money, but he can’t get gigs when he’s so furry, Oh Eddie, you’re sweaty and covered in debris. Always been a friend of mine. Watch your show all the time. Now you’re laying down in slime. Come here Eddie Munster, woah-oh. Wolf man in a garbage can- woe is me. Such a sore sight for my eyes, Eddie. Guess this guy is out of luck. Lift the boy out of the muck. A Munster in a dumpster looks so sad to me. No more playing hide and seek. Let’s trim up that widow’s peak. Wipe the dirt stains of your cheek. Let’s get Eddie on a winning streak. Eddie Munster’s finally on the up and up. Looking very damper in that button-up. You know it happens every so often, sleeping in a dumpster instead of your coffin. Oh, Eddie, you're ready to hit the stage. Eddie Munster, now you’re looking spic and span. Mr. Munster, Hollywood’s leading man. Sometimes you fall off the shelf, but you can always transform yourself. Like the wolfman we can come back to reality.

I’ve got a ghost in my house, and I don’t know what to do. He’s always popping out, like woah! peekaboo!, but the bigger problem is he’s a racist too. I've got a ghost in my house, and I don’t know what to do. One night while I was sleeping an apparition came in creeping. He said, “I can’t believe what's happened to this town.” I said, “What the hell are you talking about?” He said, “This place has become much too urban. Those kinds of characters make me uncertain. Scaring kids used to be child's play. Now I can’t even go out floating on Broadway.” I’ve got a ghost in my house, and I don’t know what to do, but the bigger problem is he’s a racist too. I tried to punch him in the head, but he disappeared in a puff, and when I play jazz records he says some fucked-up stuff. I feel like this guy never was the best. I feel like this guy never got laid to rest. I can’t believe the things that come out of his mouth. We’re in New York, man, this is not the Deep South. He says, “Expel me, and I’ll scamper like a mouse,” but I’m not comfortable having a priest in the house. You’re pretty miserable for being so superior. Your ugly ass is only making this world drearier. If I were a ghost, I'd be acting much more eerier. Doing wacky shit, I’d certainly be queerier, making people’s Halloween a little bit cheerier. Not just clamoring on about how others are inferior. Now if you would please leave my home’s interior. I’ve got a ghost in my house, and I don’t know what to do. He’s always popping out, like &@#$*%&#($#! but the bigger problem is he’s a racist too. I got a ghost in my house, and I don’t know what to do.

It seems as though my human suit doesn’t fit so well today. My reptilian exoskeleton starts to fray. I was sent to this world to prep invasion plans. One billion gelatin blobs need to land. We’re gonna tear you up. Rip you limb from limb. I’m just here to figure out when we should begin. But it seems as though my human suit is barely checking out. I’ve been thinking about my mission, and I’m having doubts. How could I annihilate the entire human race, now that I’m acquainted with you guys? Why would I annihilate the entire human race, when you’re just gonna do that yourselves? It seems as though my human suit doesn’t fit so well today. My reptilian exoskeleton starts to fray. I was sent to this place to plan for an attack, but I’ll go back to report that there’s no need for that.

Live out in the sticks with only my sisters. Play in the woods until I have blisters. My imagination always running wild. I was only ten, I was only a child, A mystery house on the edge of town. I’d spy to see who was around. One day while playing I couldn't help but freeze. Suddenly felt there were eyes on me. A little girls voice said, “You don’t have to leave.” She looked so odd. Was this make believe? Brought me to a spot with an old wooden swing. Her clothes didn't fit right, the strangest thing. She says her house is the mystery one, points out her window with the vines overrun. Something about her kind of fills me with dread. In a tree she hides a pack of Marlboro Reds. Laura of the woods, my only friend, I never understood you. Laura of the Woods, the neighborhood says they never saw you. We became friends out in the woods. Seems like her parents weren’t so good. Then one day Laura was gone. A FOR SALE sign appeared on her lawn. Got Mom and Dad to do the house tour. Wanted to see Laura, if only once more. Her mother said, “i recognize this little guy,” but then she implied that Laura had died. Totally frightened, we continue the tour, but they cut it short before the third floor. I seriously think I befriended a ghost, or is Laura upstairs chained to a post? Chorus The years went by with a whirl. I forgot about the little ghost girl. Until I’m home for a family weekend, my sister reminds me of my old friend. I laugh and mention the Marlboro Reds. The rest of my family turns their heads. "You never talked about smoking with us." When we check, the pack is still the stump. Now my palms are getting sweaty. I guess she wasn’t just imaginary. An awful truth that I had suppressed: It was the mother in a child’s dress. A loud scream escapes from my lungs. The mother pretended that she was young, took the cloths from her dead daughters closet, and went out to play with me in the forest. Laura of the woods, my only friend , I'll never understand you. Laura of the Woods, the neighborhood is very, very scared of you.

Here it comes: one more morbid love song. I’ve been dying to be with you for so long. I get choked up, til death do us part, one look at you and I can feel my heart stop. We’ve got time to kill. It’s true, but I’m aching to cut it up with you. Let’s dance, we’ve buried the hatchet. I’m lovesick, now you gotta catch it. I hope I‘m not beating dead horses when I say that you’re drop-dead gorgeous. It’s killing me. I mean bloody hell, is this do or die? I just can’t tell! Here it comes: one more morbid love song. I’ve been dying to be with you for so long. I must have been braindead to ignore your love. I’m dying laughing at our old bad blood. You’re hot as hell and dressed to kill. Dead ahead I see a maximum thrill. You can get away with murder with a glance and a wink. The devils in the details, or so they think. Cross my heart and hope to die: I’ll be screaming bloody murder if you pick another guy. Over my dead body, I won’t be second best. There’ll be hell to pay as a consequence. Here it comes: one more morbid love song. I’ve been dying to be with you for so long. I’m hell bent, dead-set on loving you. Hope my word choice is not upsetting you. I get choked up, til death do us part, one look at you and I can feel my heart stop. Here it comes: one more morbid love song. I’ve been dying to be with you for so long. Here it comes: one more morbid love song. I’ve been dying to be with you.

I wake up to the boom of a thunderclap. My wrists are tightly bound in rope, holy crap. Locked in a basement with a scribbled map, oh god no, it’s an elaborate trap. I’m a lab rat caught inside an elaborate trap. Some psychos work like that- Finish me off. Let’s call it a wrap. I’ve been kidnapped, slapped inside an elaborate trap. Some killers act like that- Finish me off. Let’s call it a wrap. A video activates reading off my sins. I try to fast forward to see how I begin. It says I need to bleed enough to tip a rusty scale. Luckily, I hate to pee and move on without fail. Entering the second room, I spy a riddle with chagrin. It says, “The key to escape is hidden underneath your skin.” I start to feel nauseous. I see stitches on my thigh. But I remember my leather wallet and find the key inside. CHORUS As I’m walking through this hallway of barbwire and mirrors, I think about the rental costs and time it takes to build this stuff. It’s kind of interesting. I’m definitely getting an infection from this, but in a way its kinda cool. I’m developing Stockholm Syndrome for this dude. I mean, “What the fuck am I supposed to do? He’s got my life in his hands, might as well go along with his plan.” I’m developing Stockholm Syndrome. I’m developing Stockholm Syndrome. I’m callin 911 on the telephone. Even though I’m sitting completely all alone. They’ll be lab rats caught inside my elaborate trap. I’m the psycho that works like that. Finish them off. Call it a wrap.

All Hell has broken loose- good god! What the hell are we gunna do? Things have gotten out of hand, never-ending march of the lost and the damned. Demon in the mirror when I'm washing my face. Praying to that idol was a major mistake. Beelzebubs buddies are bubbling up. Vexing devils we've been summoning up. All Hell has broken loose- let’s go! Things are really getting out of control. I regret making the altar of bone. Zombies uplifting their tombstones. I can't believe there's bodies climbing outta the mud. Trees are on fire, and its raining blood. Phantoms and fantasms block out the sky. Everyone I know has been mortified. Song of the Beast. Devils released. Walking deceased. Demanding a feast.

Autumn is coming on strong. I don't think I'm gunna take my socks off. Autumn is coming on strong. Let's get some soup in the fucking crock pot. Pumpkin spice is nice. It's OK. No, nevermind, I want it to go away Cool breeze and the rustling leaves. Long sleeves are we turning the heat on? Autumn is coming on strong. Orange sunsets and an early sundown. Autumn is coming on strong. Get ready for the midnight ghost town. Blood Moon, Bad Moon, Harvest Moon, Glows maroon, coming soon. When the moon comes out the lunatics start to dance and sing. Yes, lunar is the etymology of lunatics and lunacy. Blood Moon, Bad Moon, Harvest Moon, Buy a round for the whole saloon. Blood Moon, Bad Moon, Harvest Moon, that’s the tune I'm gunna croon.

Scorpio Season Scorpio Season: Just give me reason (or don't) to write you out of my life. The stinger strikes just like knife, and this water sign assumes it’s fine. I’m not jealous; I’m right. Season of the Scorpio: You gotta plot your steps before you go. When life is a game of chess, you gotta keep your cards close to the vest. And the cunning eye never tells you why. I’m not quiet; I’m a spy. Scorpio imposter, just check out our roster: Pablo Picasso Danny Devito Sally Field, and Jeff Probst Teddy Roosevelt. (Also Bob Ross) Season of the Scorpio You think I’m moody? No. I don’t even have a mood. It’s weird that you think I would. I guess you’re not as observant as you thought? Huh? CHORUS

I got a dog and, man, he’s a lot. Something about him seems kind of dark. I took him down to the Demon Dog Park, and that place ignited his spark. Demon, Demon Dog Park. Some pups need more than a walk. With bloody fangs and wings on display, these dogs just want some time to play. Tearing up bodies sure tires him out. He’ll eviscerate bellies while I mill about. Fly off to battle a sooth-saying crone- I say, “Have fun buddy” while I’m checking my phone. I got a dog, man, he’s a lot. His bite is as bad as his bark. I take him down to the Demon Dog park, but when I do things get kind of dark. Demon-Demon Dog Park. Skin like a croc and teeth like a shark. Gobbles up kids when he’s a bad boy, but I’ve also seen grown adults be destroyed. He was spawned from a pit; yet regardless, he’s a lovable guy, albeit heartless. When muzzled he nuzzles, and it’s kind of safe, but he’ll guzzle your guts if he’s ever chafed. I got a dog and, man, he’s a lot. Something about him seems kind of dark. I took him down to the Demon Dog Park, and that’s where he ate out my heart.

I think she wants to suck my blood. I think she wants to suck my blood. She's got a fever, a fever for blood. It's not love that she's looking to chug. If I had some liver, I would give her some. She’s got a fever a fever for blood. Chainsaw starts with a terrible sound. Chainsaw starts with a terrible sound. She running across the campground. I think she wants to cut us into rounds. I'm trying to sprint- I hear her foot pound, growling like a vicious hell-hound. I fall down, and she's looking at me. I fall down, and she's looking at me. She crawls up very slowly, carefully circling. She takes out a knife, and points it at my belly, then quickly sticks it into me. I think she wants to suck my blood. I think she wants to suck my blood. She's got a fever, a fever for blood. It's not love that she's looking to chug. She's eating my liver. I guess it's her dinner. She-

The monster that I made is acting really strange. I don’t think he’s a happy camper. When you’re rolling a dice-check on bringing a life back, you don’t always have the answer. Excuse me, Dr. Frankenstein, have finally lost your mind? You’re acting so unnatural today. Have you dranken too much wine? Or huffed too much turpentine? I’ve noticed that your body’s begun to sway. Enough: the matter that’s at hand is this zombie man. He might be a little bit cuckoo. Damn, I just saw him leave. Go get my car keys. We’re going to have to chase him. Excuse me, Dr. Frankenstein, are you sure that you’re ok to drive? The ride is feeling really quite bumpy. We passed the monster a mile ago. And maybe if you were going slow, and not swerving, you would have seen. Shit, we’re already in town. I might as well buy us a round. You guys are the greatest assistants. Actually, we’ve got places to be. It’s a first birthday party. It’s kind of weird that you weren’t invited. Holy crap, floor the turd. That was just so awkward. I can’t believe the monster didn’t invite the Doc. I just had to pass the tissues. Talk about daddy issues. Anyway, the monster’s house is around the block.

She’s in a peach-colored crop top and a denim jacket. We’re headed out to my grandparents’ cabin. It’s a three hour drive up from Manhattan. I’ve got a big crush; anything could happen. Don’t worry baby, I’ll carry your backpack in. Inside is creepy: cobwebs and misshapen taxidermy, dusty moldy seats, furniture covered in white sheets. She’s getting scared, wants to head back. Relax baby, don’t overreact. Let’s settle in and check out the bedroom. Have a little fun to cover the gloom. It’s getting spooky and my girl is freaking out. This is not a scary movie. We’re supposed to be making out. I’ve locked all the doors. That creak was probably a mouse. Let’s try to just get used to this haunted house. I put my arms on your hips and take off your glasses. Start a crackling fire from the fireplace ashes. Floor boards shake and a deep voice entones: Who dares to disturb my home? Don’t worry baby, I think it was the radio. Open your mind, you seem so nervous and stiff. If this place is haunted, I’ll protect our shit. Shit, did you hear that? It sounded pretty close. Close your eyes and take a deep breath. Pull your mind away from impending death. Settle down, how about a shoulder massage? I can’t believe my night is being sabotaged. It’s getting spooky and my girlfriend is freaking out. It’s like a scary movie. The psycho killer just popped out. He smacks me across the face and kidnaps my girlfriend. God dammit, he’s ruined the weekend. It’s getting spooky, and now I’m never getting out. It’s getting deadly, and I’m never getting out.

I’m quivering, I’m shivering from the fright and from the cold. I want to wear my bustier, but the wind Is uncontrolled. It’s too cold for my costume this year. I’ll need another layer on my brassiere. My toes are turning blue. Probably going to catch the flu. It’s too cold for my costume this year. I had picked out some nice lingerie. I was going to wear to the bar, but when I left my house today I didn’t get very far. I’m busty, but it’s gusty, and the temp is just too low. I’m going to need more legwear besides these panty-hoes. It’s too cold for my costume this year. I’ll need another layer on my brassiere. I know that I look super hot, but in this weather I’d rather not. It’s too cold for my costume this year. What are you anyway? A strange man says to me. I’m a cat, you moron. Isn’t that plain to see? I’m dressed all in black. There’s a tail taped to my ass. I’m a cat, you moron.

Don’t you wish that everyday could be like Halloween? Wake up and pretend to be whatever you want to be, you can be: from Bambi to Beelzebub, and everything in between. Don’t you wish that everyday could be like Halloween? Wake and pretend to be anything you want to be, you can be: from Beelzebub to Bambi, come on get your candy. It’s Halloween… Run on down to the village green with Chucky. The day has come for our wild romp, romp, romp, romp. You can’t have a carnival without butchering some meat! So now it’s time for chucky to chop chop chop. It’s Halloween… Halloween night flight, tantalizing delight. Feels so wrong, but tonight it’s right. You have little chuckle. Feel a little fright. Things get strange. Things get weird. All your worries have disappeared. It’s Halloween… In 1995, I saw Casper the Friendly Ghost in the movie theater for my birthday. So many memories from childhood circle around Halloween. My uncle in a gorilla suit- the Phantom of the Opera is on the loose. It’s halloween… Don’t you wish that everyday could be like Halloween? Wake and pretend to be anything you want to be, you can be: from Beelzebub to Bambi, come on get your candy. It’s Hallo- We know what the people want. Give the people what they want. Just a little hocus pocus, just a little bread and circus. credits