There's a spooky house at the end of the lane; 
Where there's lots of clouds but never any rain. 

And some folks say 
  there's a certain ghost, 
  who wakes up late at night there;
And some folks say 
  there's a certain day 
  when she wakes up late at night 
  where; 
The children come calling 
  as the Halloween night is crawling 
  along.

But me, I don't believe it. I'm not afraid; 
I'm not scared of any ghost that's ever been made. 

And some folks bet me 
  a fair day's wage 
  that I wouldn't spend the night there; 
And some folks say 
  there's a certain ghost 
  who sits up late at night there; 
And some folks say 
  there's a certain day 
  when you shouldn't be anywhere 
  around there; 
For the children are dressed up; 
  and their caution is messed up; 
  too bad!

But me, I won't stand it; 
To a ghost, I won't hand it or any other spook. 
  'Cause to me, a ghost is a ghost is a ghost—as long as they play by the book.

So Halloween Eve 
  and there I was 
  alone in the haunted house; 
A house so frightening, 
  framed in bright lightning 
  by a storm that lived in the clouds. 
And late at night I heard a noise;
  a strange unearthly shivering noise; 
A noise that was made by a dozen silly girls and boys: 
  "Trick-or-treat! Trick-or-treat! Give us something good to eat."

I stood in the parlor intending to tell them 
  that this house was not on the route; 
  of careful young children who were making a mistake 
  and should have been indoors than out. 
Oh, they wouldn't listen to a fellow like me 
  for suddenly the ghostly one appeared; 
  The one that shows up on a certain night, 
  the one they've all learned to fear.

And she spoke: 
  "Aren't you so clever, 
  dressed in your leathers 
  like cowboys of years gone by. 
And who are you, my sweet little dear? 
  a monster, a goul or a ghost? 
No, it doesn't really matter 
  for candy makes you fatter 
  than you certainly were last year. 
That's why I'm giving you something tonight; 
  something special for you and for you; 
  a bag of my special, extra firm, be-deviled, hard curd soybean tofu."

The ghost, she placed 
  the tasteless tofu into each of the children's bags; 
  And they swallowed their swallow
  and looked quite hollow totally 
  through and through. 
Halloween is for candy
  and the night is quite handy to gather quite a few; 
  chocolate bars and taffy lumps 
  and sugar coated malted mumps 
  and even candied apples, too. 

But tofu? 
Oh, pew! 
The ghost learned something new; 
  that children are children 
  until you try to give them 
  Halloween tasteless tofu. 

There's a spooky house 
  at the end of the street; 
Where the trick-or-treaters 
  all gather to meet; 
To complain about the treats 
  that are given there; 
And brother I'll tell you, 
  I tackle any goul or ghosty, 
  but not fiddle with tasteless tofu. 

I was out of that house 
  in ten seconds flat 
  and I'll be roasted 
  if I'm ever going back 
  and it's not because of that ghost 
  who lives there; 
And it's not because 
  of what she does 
  there; 

No it's the children with bags of tofu. 
On Halloween eve, 
  that's not what to do there.

I'll be home in bed 
  with the covers over my head 
  and asking help from 
  each one of you; 
If the children come calling 
  with bags that are crawling 
  with tasteless Halloween tofu.