Howl of the Jack-o-Lantern

They take us from the fields and scoop out our brains
They bake us and eat us and carve us false faces,
We are set out at night, as terrors and goblins about us there races
Fleeing from the flicker spat forth from our snarls of pain;
A hot fire that burns our spirit, is in our belly lain,
Of our noble identity naught can be found but traces...
They take us from the fields and scoop out our brains
They bake us and eat us and carve us false faces.

We sing of our lost brethren with rousing and mournful refrains
Gathering our strength and our number in the most sacred of places,
Lamentations not just for the tribe of Jack, but gourds of all races;
We howl at the night of our losses and anger, and yet it remains---
They take us from the fields and scoop out our brains.