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Season Of The Pumpkin Lyrics

"Season Of The Pumpkin" was written by Matthew Bellamy.
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"Season Of The Pumpkin" was written by Matthew Bellamy.
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You don't really know much about Halloween
You don't really know much about Halloween
You don't really know much about Halloween
Happy Halloween

Hallow's eve just another phrase for devil's nite mass
Murdering bitches by the street light
Everybody thinks that candy's to be recieved
Little do they know it's the nite of the witch's eve

Open his book, turning the pages of his bloody script
Hang me, strangle me but don't bullshit
The time has come for the House to now prepare
To give this whole motherfucker a bloody scare

Swinging the bloody battle axe, wake the dead
Let 'em all know the eve is coming, all is said, I've misread
The tombstones, my transfer searching for life's questions
Fuck the answers, no escape, no chance to leave
Letting hell break loose on Hallow's eve

Happy Halloween
You don't really know much about Halloween
Halloween

Somebody tell em, I've lost my fuckin' mind
There's nowhere to go, a different style
A different place, a different niggero
I'll take the double barrel pumpkin gun
Step back and pump one right into your muthafuckin' clear, boom

On Hallow's eve, in the trees, let me tear loose
Maximum overdrive, the day before the noose
It's Halloween, hear the screams in the dreams
Of my fuckin' head, check disease up in my arm's spread
Walk the streets I'm the freak you fools read

About The 29th and the 30th
I'm coming out, you never know
How much I can let it go, just when, cut off my head
Another day, bro, on Hallow's eve

Cutting cheese, cutting throats I can't cope
And mothefucker's feel the night smoke
As it creeps, I can't sleep, I slept, no I got rest
Because I breathe on the breeze of Hallow's eve

You don't really know what
Happy Halloween
You don't really know much about Halloween
Happy Halloween

What the fuck? On Hallow's eve, I hear the dead souls
Calling my name, telling me to play the game hide and seek
With my mind If I hang, running thru the fields
I'm trying to find in the pumpkin searching for my brain

Fuck my mind, so I guess, now I'm insane
But am I insane? No never been sane
So, I got to kill, what I can't win
I see the great pumpkin floating thru the fuckin' streets

On the outskirts, hear the screams
And cries, devils are laughing, now it's time to die
Hold my hand and hope that it's all a joke
I found my mind in the mist of the ghastly smoke

Songwriters
Matthew Bellamy

Published by
TASTE MUSIC LTD

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