What spell befell our town this year?
What darkness fills cornfields fear?
What black spat back?

What sorrow fills our bodies still?
Though we defy the witches will?

What black spat back?
What shadow knocks to mock our glee?
And you my strange adhesive flee!
What black spat back?

Hellmouth!
Hellmouth!
Hellmouth!
Hellmouth!

What mother paints a widows peak?
A mark upon the face we seek
What black spat back?
What surface harboring sentiment
Personifies whom we resent?

What black spat back?
What bathroom mirror reveals our foe?
Despite our gaze no visage shows!
What black spat back?

Hellmouth!
Hellmouth!
Hellmouth!
Hellmouth!

Hellmouth!
Hellmouth!
Hellmouth!
Hellmouth!