God rest ye merry lycanthropes,
Let nothing bother you.
Remember that the wolvesbane all died out in ’42.
The werewolf hunter’s stuck at home,
Suffering with the flu.
Oh the world is yours when the full moon rises high.
The world is yours when the full moon rises high.
Electrum came in vogue this year,
The silver’s almost gone.
The only blessed weapons
Are on hock at EZ Pawn.
In short there’s nothing here to stop a lycanthropic throng.
Oh the world is yours when the full moon rises high.
The world is yours when the full moon rises high.
Half of mankind is infected,
We’re creatures one and all.
The rest are used for exercise,
Or are mounted to a wall.
It might be fun to sit and watch civilization fall.
Oh the world is yours when the full moon rises high.
The world is yours when the full moon rises high.