Key:
There's a little drip-drop from on top of the table
Shadows without a light source
See where the blood done came from
Might be time to unlock all of the doors.

'Cause the tip-toe sounds that you hear in the walls
It's prolly comin from a dead relative
It's imperative that you cherish this
Never know it could be your last time without any sedative.

If you cant pass out in your own house
Better dip quick and burn it down
Would you rather have a visitor for breakfast
Or see this tragedy fall to the ground.

It's a one-shot, two-shot, spark the gas
Get a little paper if you can
Anybody trippin give em some cash
And say you blazed with the Boogeyman.


Ghosts and Spirits of our dead relatives
Comin' back to haunt you like some ghouled out presidents
Ghosts and Spirits of our dead relatives
Comin' back to haunt you like some ghouled out presidents


One lonely road and your walking its raining
Something comes out of the bushes they're saying
Messing with us is the death of a sane man
Why are you even out here in the rain man?

Disdain is the course that the followers go through
Dying to find a new soul for the toadstool
The ritual sacrifice dropped by the old school
Give it a minute and watch what the goats do.

It's all true
I know what your thinking is wrong
Might need a lift up from the bong
I guarantee all of these nights will be long.

And if it comes down to the wire
Just jump in the fire
Cause what we're gonna do to you is worse than any curse created by the
One True Sire.


Ghosts and Spirits of our dead relatives
Comin' back to haunt you like some ghouled out presidents
Ghosts and Spirits of our dead relatives
Comin' back to haunt you like some ghouled out presidents


Les:
Running around with the blades on my fingers
Haunting at night and the smell of death lingers
Revved up my chain saw engine
Running through the woods and I'm looking for a mission.

Voodoo hex dolls bloods on the wall
Creeping around and they tryin' to kill us all
Eyes all roll back in the head,
Everyone running around like the undead.

Everybody running to the town
They got their hands up in the air looking for the massacre clown
Flamethrowers burning us down everybody hootin' and hollerin'
We got to get out of this town.

Creeping on down to your basement
And wearing hockey mask like a face plate,
Locking you up in the dark room with no light
And mothafucka you can't even escape!

"Ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls, children of all ages,
You are about to enter a world where life and death are meaningless
And pain, is god. Lets go."


Ghosts and Spirits of our dead relatives
Comin' back to haunt you like some ghouled out presidents
Ghosts and Spirits of our dead relatives
Comin' back to haunt you like some ghouled out presidents
Ghosts and Spirits of our dead relatives
Comin' back to haunt you like some ghouled out presidents
Ghosts and Spirits of our dead relatives
Comin' back to haunt you like some ghouled out presidents