Potato Hate Explosion's Hauntworthy Halloween Bash

by Potato Hate Explosion

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PHE's 9th full-length album, the perfect soundtrack to your Halloween debauchery!

"This shits fucking dope. Smokin a fatty to it"
-PostmortemPreteenGangbang

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released October 23, 2013

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Potato Hate Explosion Bowling Green, Missouri

Potato Hate Explosion is an experimental cybergrind/metalcore act started in late 2012.
Hailing from the depths of the midwest, PHE is a one-man spudcore powerhouse.

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Track Name: Jack O' Lantern Haunt Explosion
Now that the day of the macabre has dawned upon us all
We shall pillage innocent homes and bring down the wall
Between the living and the dead, tonight is the night
The children of Beelzebub walk the streets and emit fright

Halloween, the best day of the year
Rotten teeth and horror films abundant
Live for the night, take it hour by hour
Scare countless small children and spread fear throughout the land
Track Name: Candy Binge
Eat, eat, gorge, munch, eat, eat, swallow
Take it down, eat the candy
Make your teeth yellow, brown,
Blue, black, or if you wish, red
Track Name: Graveyard Dance Party
Boogie, boogie, ghouls and ghosts
Come up above and dance the night away
Spirits and specters, join us in celebration
Jumping about and merriment until the light of day

Get down, ghost
Get down, ghoul
Get down, you shimmying corpse
Get down, really, the sun’s up, now get back in there
Track Name: Halloween Specials
TV, the sweet tube, the hub for glutton
Before and after the holiday begging
Plop yourself down and watch your favorite shows
Halloweenified and whatnot, Halloween specials
Track Name: Trick or MILF
The doorbell rings, the leg pops out
A teasing costume appears and shakes
Invited in for a private party
Better than candy, a Monster I’d Like to Fuck

Bouncing all night, throwing candy corn out the window
Making parents shield the eyes of their beloved children
Half-clothed 40-something answering the door and philandering
This costumed woman is a Monster I’d Like to Fuck
Track Name: Raising the Dead
Darkest of dark nights, illuminated by
The souls of the damned
Free to walk the earth once again

It’s alive! It’s alive! Again
Spirits of the departed, be free
Track Name: Fun with Witchcraft
Ever since the dawn of time, the paranormal has been persecuted
Except for one night of the year, All Hallows Eve

Hiding in plain sight, magic crafters causing chaos
Hang the cop! Hang the auto merchant!
The merriment hides the witchery
Track Name: Midnight Hide and Seek
So much nostalgia, so little time
Before they all clear out
Something that never seemed to always happen

Late night, pitch black outdoors hide and seek
Everyone, including many folks I don’t know
Having fun, late night walking and crouching
Midnight hide and seek
Track Name: The Nickel
“On October 31st, 1952, little Jimmy was having a grand evening Trick or Treating. Upon reaching an unlit house at the end of a dead-end road, he decided to approach it in the feeble hope that the owner would be home and give the young glutton more candy to appease his appetite.”

Is anyone there? I need more junk food
Come on, open the door. Oh well, I’ll try the next one
On his way away, the large black door creaks and opens
Hesitantly the boy walks back and finds an old man

Standing bent halfway over, holding a nickel
“Now don’t spend it all in one place”, the elder chuckled sinisterly

As the night draws to an end, little Jimmy goes to DQ
One small ice cream cone, the cashier happily obliges
One bothered look at the small, marked coin
He knows just what to do then gives the child his treat

As little Jimmy finishes his cone with such glee
He bites into something hard and sharp that tastes like blood
Too late now, Jimmy, you’ve had your fill of blade
The young child begins gagging, asphyxiating, and bleeding from the mouth

Choke! Bleed! Contort! Die!
Slicing, gashing, ripping, vehement struggle
Slowly dying and convulsing in agony
Such pathetic jactitation, the deed is done

Lying in a pool of blood, vomit and vanilla ice cream
The sole employee scoops up the stained, stagnant corpse
One trash bag and a heavy mop-job later
No one will ever know what or who or why or how

The moral of the story is
Don’t fuck with people who don’t turn their lights on