I'm Gonna Drink that Blood Right Outta Her Neck

I’m gonna drink that blood right outta her neck,

I’m gonna drink that blood right outta her neck,

I’m gonna drink that blood right outta her neck,

And guzzle it down my own.

I’m gonna bite that girl right in her vain,

I’m gonna bite that girl right in her vain,

I’m gonna bite that girl right in her vain,

And listen to her grown.

Oh, don’t try to spit it out.

Slurp it up! Slurp it up!

Bite her mane, dry her vain,

Then, oh BAT, stop that.

Drain her vein and let her shrivel!

Yea, vampire!

I’m gonna suck that blood right outta her neck,

I’m gonna suck that blood right outta her neck,

I’m gonna suck that blood right outta her neck,

And guzzle it down my own.

If the thing don’t understand you.

If you fly on separate wings.

Waste no time. Make a start.

Pull that lid right off your chest.

Push her out of the coffin

And drum her out of your rest.

If you laugh at different funerals.

If you root for different ghouls.

Waste no time. Creep no more.

Show her what the stake is for!

Place it o’re her heart

And drum it through her breast.

Oh, no!          Oh, no!

I’m gonna drink that blood right outta her neck,

I’m gonna drink that blood right outta her neck,

I’m gonna drink that blood right outta her neck,

And guzzle it down my own.

Older Than Egypt

I touch your hand

And your arm falls off.

I pat your back,

You begin to cough.

My eyes look down

At your twisted face,

And I must admit,

With distaste!

Older than Egypt are you.

Paler than toothpaste are you.

Drier than desert sands

Are the shriveled lips you gave me.

Gloomier than graves are you.

Weaker than slaves are you.

Devil, not angel: hell, not Heaven.

Are you to me.

And when you die and decay

Inside my tomb

And fill my coffin up with dust,

Then…

                        Older than Egypt am I.

                        Drier than deserts am I.

                        Witch and Warlock,

                        Mummy and Thing

                        Am I with you.

A Wonderful Wolf

I expect ev’ryone of my crowd

To make fun of my proud

Protestations of hypnotic entrances;

And they’ll say I’m sup’stitious,

A bit naïve to believe any legend

I hear from some wolf in pants.

I’ve been known to share your

Practical conclusion,

Thinking the beast could keep

Its seclusion,

‘Til all of a sudden that moon’s

Fullnesstude

Shown down and hit me smack

In the snude:

That’s how I turned out to be

The hairy young werewolf you see.

I’m as hairy as cotton in August,

All in the matter of one little poof.

No longer a smart little guy with no teeth,

I have become a most wonderful wolf.

I turn at a conventional full moon

From a conventional toe to a hoof.

And you will note, there is hair on my throat,

When I turn to that wonderful wolf.

I’m as gruff and as mean as a crazy loot,

A ghoul coming out.

I am sharp-toothed with a crock’dile grin,

Drippin’ blood down my chin.

I’m as hairy as cotton in August,

I’m as fast as bats from the roof.

If you’ll excuse the expression I use”

I am turning, am turning, am turning,

Am turning, am turning to a wonderful wolf.

Some Enchanted Graveyard

Some enchanted graveyard,

There may dwell a ghoul;

There may dwell a ghoul

Inside a crumbled tomb.

And therefore you know,

You know even then,

That someday you will scream

Again and again.

In some enchanted graveyard

Something may be laughing.

You may hear it laughing

From in a crumbled tomb,

And night after night,

As strange as it seems,

The sound of laughter

Will echo your screams.

Who can explain it?

Who can tell you why?

Ghouls make you promises;

Believers always die.

Some enchanted graveyard

Where you hear it call you,

When you hear it call you,

From in a crumbled tomb;

Then fly from the scene

And head for your home.

Oh, flee for your life

From this twilight zone.

Once you have met it.

It’ll never let you go.

Once you have met it.

It’ll never let you go.