Year after year, It’s the same routine And I grow so weary Of the sound of screams And I Jack, the pumpkin 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 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