Standard (EADGBE)

 There are few who would deny at what I do I am the best

 For my talents are renowned far and wide.

 When it comes to surprises in the moonlit night

 I accel without ever even trying.

 With the slightest little effort of my ghostlike charm

 I've seen grown men give out a shriek

 With a wave of my hand and a well placed moan

 I have swept the very bravest off their feet.

 Yet year after year, it's the same old cheer

 And I grow so weary of the sound of screams

 And I, Jack, the Pump-kin King

 Have grown so tired of the same old thing

 Oh, somewhere deep inside of these bones

 An emptiness began to grow

 There's something out there, far from my home

 A longing that I've never known

 I'm a master of fright, and a demon of light

 And I'll scare you right out of your pants

 To a guy in Kentucky, I'm Mister Unlucky

 And I'm known throughout England and France

 And since I am dead, I can take off my head

 To recite Shakespearean quotations

 No animal nor man can scream like I can

 With the fury of my recitations

But who here would ever understand

 That the Pumpkin King with the skeleton grin

 Would tire of his crown, if they only understood

 He'd give it all up if he only could

 Oh, there's an empty place in my bones

 That calls out for something unknown

 The fame and praise come year after year

 Does nothing for these empty tears