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LYRICS (subscriber perk)
waiting...
The pumpkins are turning
They're rotten to the core
Ichabod rides through the rows
He's ridden many times before
The moon hangs low behind him
The road has disappeared
His horse keeps shying at the dark
At things he cannot hear
"Perhaps it is the branches"
"No doubt it's just the wind"
But each face in the field
Sports a fallow grin
The pumpkins are turning
They're rotten to the core
Their sickly grins reflect their sins
And they always come back for more
The fields go on forever
Each row becomes the last
The road is stretching out ahead
As the shadows deepen fast
He slows his steed to listen
They both begin to sweat
The way looks clear behind him
But there's something coming yet
A lantern swinging in the field
He sees no hand to hold
A shadow falls across the path
The air turns bitter cold
The pumpkins watch the horse go past
And pay the man no mind
They all together turn away
And watch the road behind
The pumpkins are turning
They're rotten to the core
Something wretched this way comes
As it's done so many times before
His horse spooks to a gallop
The bridle slipping free
He tumbles down and hits the ground
But springs right to his feet
Hoofbeats loud behind him
The rhythm hard and slow
He can not turn to face his fate
It's too late, he's come to know
Black horse
Black night
No escaping
Not tonight
As he stops to catch his breath—his last
The Horseman closes in
The pumpkins with their ghastly smiles
Are keeping score again
When morning comes the townsfolk find
There's nothing left but tracks
A broken lantern in the field
And hoofprints leading back
Through the field into the woods
Where no one dares to go
What fate befell Ichabod Crane
Nobody seems to know
The pumpkins are turning
They're rotten to the core
