Spirits
Sematary Lyrics

(There are spirit's in this house)
The presence of supernatural spirits is felt within this particular house

(I can see your soul at the Edges of your eyes it's corrosive Like acid) yeah
I possess the ability to perceive the essence of your being in the innermost corners of your eyes, a corrosive force comparable to acid

Haunted Mound i'm a Haunted Mound cowboy (i'll see you again) hauugghhhh
As a Haunted Mound cowboy, I exist within a realm imbued with haunting energies, and I forebode our eventual encounter

Spirit's follow me everywhere I go
Ethereal entities relentlessly track my every movement

You can try the Haunted Mound
Feel free to attempt to navigate through the eerie atmosphere of the Haunted Mound

Our cutters be up
Our blades are ready for use

I got a bad bitch from Argentinia
I have acquired an assertive and formidable female acquaintance from Argentina

Wire bat on me, turn ya to spirit orb
Equipped with a wired bat, I have the capacity to transform you into a spectral manifestation

Shakin' doors Breakin' windows in my butcher house
I forcefully manipulate doors and shatter windows within my abode, a domain where butchery takes place

I talk to my shadow
I engage in communication with the silhouette cast by my physical form

When I look ya in your eyes I can see your soul
Upon making direct eye contact with you, I possess the ability to perceive the essence of your being

Well, I'm a Haunted Mound cowboy Real cowboys, we'll put ya in your tombstone
As a Haunted Mound cowboy, I exemplify the epitome of true cowboys who have the capability to consign you to your final resting place

Thеre's spirit's in my house Swear I'm not off Bеnadryl, I can hear 'em
My dwelling is inhabited by spirits, and I solemnly declare that my perception of them is not distorted due to the influence of medication

Screaming Forest where the wind cries Whisper to me like a jack-o lantern
Within the Screaming Forest, where the wind expresses anguish, I receive whispers comparable to those emitted by a jack-o-lantern

Buck buck like my sawed-off Walk, walk up in my house, call the coroner
The discharge of my sawed-off firearm resounds with a distinct 'buck buck' sound, and anyone who ventures into my abode must notify the coroner of their arrival

I told you I was sick
I previously informed you of my ailing state

She say she love me, but I'm a haunted house
Despite her claims of affection, she fails to fully comprehend that I am a dwelling imbued with haunting energy

Boomstick like Ash Williams mark 'em dead Send 'em up with the spirit's
My 'boomstick,' analogous to Ash Williams, serves as a tool to vanquish the living, enabling their ascension to the realm of spirits

Come and meet my AK, he be takin' souls Grave Man smokin' packs, he on a roll
Allow me to introduce you to my AK-47, an instrument of soul extraction, while Grave Man delights in consuming packs of cigarettes, showcasing his ongoing success

We don't give a fuck, we'll take you out Lotta guns, lotta knives in the butcher house
We exhibit an absolute lack of concern as we eliminate adversaries, bolstered by the presence of numerous firearms and knives within the abode dedicated to slaughtering

Run up, we'll turn you to a spirit Take you where the trees all screamin'
Should you approach us, we shall transform you into a disembodied entity, ushering you into a dimension where all trees emit deafening cries

We gon' skin you, make sure that you feel it Hackle down on 'em, you cannot forgive me
We shall meticulously extract your skin, ensuring that you experience profound agony, as I unleash my menacing persona upon you, leaving no room for forgiveness

Ha hа hа ha-Hauntaholics real Haunted Mound
Hauntaholics, individuals with an insatiable obsession for all things haunted, embody the true essence of the Haunted Mound