[Verse 1] The marble slab groans with a rusted-hinge creak I brush the cobwebs off after centuries asleep I stretched out my claws and I puffed out my chest Prepared for the frenzy, the local unrest We kicked through the topsoil expecting the roar Of a thousand angry peasants banging on the door Instead of a village in terror and dread It’s a quiet cul-de-sac where the energy’s dead Vinyl siding, manicured lawns, two-car garages Not a frantic mob firing holy barrages Just a basketball hoop on an adjustable pole And an eerie lack of terror in this neighborhood's soul. [Pre-Chorus] Where’s the wooden stakes dipped in kerosene? Where’s the angry mayor making such a scene? I hear a little ping from a box on the wall A Ring camera chirping, no panic at all. [Chorus] Where are the pitchforks? Where are the flames? Why is everybody inside playing drinking games? We came for the rabble, the shouting, the chase Now we’re pacing round an empty cul-de-sac space! No fiery mob on the Bermuda grass lawn Just a bowl by the door with the candy all gone! Is anybody frightened? Do you even give a crap? We got all dressed up for a cul-de-sac! [Verse 2] The Werewolf hit the asphalt with a terrifying howl Expecting silver bullets whizzing past his brow. He snorted at a mailbox, ready for a fight— Till a popup lawn sprinkler blasted him with spite! Frankenstein stomped up a paved flagstone drive Hunting for an angry torch-and-pitchfork hive A motion floodlight hit him with thirty-thousand lumens Turned his ghastly green skin into something almost human! No angry mob of peasants, not a blacksmith’s son ust a plastic pink flamingo on a manicured lawn. [Pre-Chorus] Where’s the wooden stakes dipped in kerosene? Where’s the angry mayor making such a scene? I hear a little ping from a box on the wall A Ring camera chirping, no panic at all. [Chorus] Where are the pitchforks? Where are the flames? Why is everybody inside playing drinking games? We came for the rabble, the shouting, the chase Now we’re pacing round an empty cul-de-sac space! No fiery mob on the Bermuda grass lawn Just a bowl by the door with the candy all gone! Is anybody frightened? Do you even give a crap? We got all dressed up for a cul-de-sac! [Bridge] Back in eighteen-thirty, if I coughed in my bed, An angry mob showed up to take my undead head! Now there's quiet hours starting sharp at eight, And a summons in the mail for a misaligned gate! ("Pardon me, sir, could you step off the mulch?") My aristocratic dignity is suffering an insult! Renfield, hit the keys, tell me what did we miss? Since when did angry peasants pick suburban bliss? [Verse 3] We’re banging on the screen of a double-paned door Flexing out our claws like we’re ready for a war! A guy in cargo shorts opens up with a yawn: "Candy’s in the bowl, guys, keep off of the lawn." No screaming, no running, no pitchfork array— Handed us some candy and he walked right away! Underneath the street lamp’s sickly yellow light: We’re the kings of the dark, looking stupid in the night! [Pre-Chorus] Where’s the wooden stakes dipped in kerosene? Where’s the angry mayor making such a scene? I hear a little ping from a box on the wall A Ring camera chirping, no panic at all. [Chorus] Where are the pitchforks? Where are the flames? Why is everybody inside playing drinking games? We came for the rabble, the shouting, the chase Now we’re pacing round an empty cul-de-sac space! No fiery mob on the Bermuda grass lawn Just a bowl by the door with the candy all gone! Is anybody frightened? Do you even give a crap? We got all dressed up for a cul-de-sac! [Outro] [Ring doorbell: Spoken word] (Motion detected at front porch.) [Dracula: spoken word] I said burn me with a torch! A torch! [Frankenstein: spoken word] Fire bad... but no fire is... worse?
