Is there anybody going to listen to my gory
Tale about the girl who came to slay?
She’s the kind of girl who wants a lunch
Of mates like Lorrie.
Kills you and then gets the day’s buffet.
Argh! ghoul girl,
Ghoul girl.

When I think of all the dines:
Guys, gals that she has eaten—
Makes me want to spurn her, say “goodbye!”
Then she promises to curb the spree,
And like a cretin,
I fall for the line—then toast is Sy.
Argh! ghoul girl,
Ghoul girl.

She’s the kind of girl who wolfs you down
Your friends should fear this feasting tool.
Then dude say she’s looking bad:
She acts nasty and sunders Thad,
Then drools; cool Yul, fool: gruel.
Argh! ghoul girl,
Ghoul girl.

On her throat, when she was young,
Sharp canines sank for measures
Of her blood and blanched her till near dead.
Then a man turned wolf attacked
And had his snacking pleasures.
If I do not leave this wench, I’ll dread.
Argh! ghoul girl,
Ghoul girl.