Jack's Lament

There are (Bbm)few who'd (Faug)deny at what I (Db)do I am the (Gm9)best,

for my (Gb)talents are (F)renowned far and (Ebm)wide.

When it (C)comes to (C#dim7)surprises on a (C)moonlit (Ebm)night,

I (C7)excel without ever even (F7)trying.

With the (Ebm)slightest little (Bb7)effort of my (Ebm)ghostlike (Fdim)charms I have (Ebm)seen grown men give out a (E)shriek.

With the (Abdim)wave of my (Ebm)hand and a (Bb7)wellplaced (Ebm)moan I have swept the very (Bb7)bravest off their (Ebm)feet.

Yet (Bb7)year after (Cbm)year, it's the (Fb)same (Ebdim7)routine,

and I (Bb)grow so weary of the (Ebdim7)sound of (Bb7)screams.

And (Gbdim7)I, (Ebm)Jack, the Pumpkin King,

have (Cb7)grown so (Bb7)tired of the (Gbdim)same (Ebdim)old (Bb)thing.

Oh, (Ebdim7)somewhere (Gm)deep (A7)inside of these (Em)bones,

an (Am6)(Em)emptiness (Am6)began to (Em)grow.

There's (Ebdim7)something (Gm)out there, (A)far from my (Em)home.

A (Am6)longing (Em6)that I've (B7)never (Em6)known.

I'm a (Em)master of (Baug)fright and a (G)demon of (C#m9)light,

and I'll (C)scare you right (B)out of your (Am)pants.

To a (F#)guy in (Gdim7)Kentucky, I'm (F#)Mister (Am)Unlucky and I'm (F#7)known throughout England and (B)France.

And (Am)since I am (Bdim)dead, I can (Am)take off my (Ddim)head to (Am)recite Shakespearean (Bb)quotations.

No (Ddim7)animal, no (Am)man can (E7)scream like I (Am)can with the fury of my (E7)(Am)recitations.

But (E7)who (Fm)here would (Bb)ever (Adim7)understand that the (E7)Pumpkin King with the (Am6)skeleton (E7)grin would (Cdim7)tire of his (Am)crown?

If they (F#m)only (C#7)(F#m)understood, he'd (D7)give it all (C#7)up if he (F#m)(D)only (C#5)could.

Oh, (Fdim7)there's an (Am)empty (B7)place in my (F#m)bones that (Bm6)calls out (F#m)for (Bm6)something (F#m)unknown.

The (Fdim7)fame and (Am)praise come (B)year after (F#m)year,

does (Bm6)nothing (F#m6)for these (C#7)empty (F#m)tears.