Somewhere in the darkness of an alley
Near a street sign reading Sesame
Bedecked in colored pelts and strings of googly eyes
A hunter grins behind a white goatee…

A subtle stirring deep within the shadows
From the darkness we can see a trunk emerge
And then the joyful song of Snuffleupagus
With a sword stroke now becomes a funeral dirge.

You’d better leave, you’d better run for the Muppet Hunter Comes
He sings the song of the banshee, your only hope is but to flee.
Discretion is the better part of valor, so vamoose…
Before the Muppet Hunter comes for you.

A green pelt stretched and drying on a trash can, (“Have a yucky d—aught!1”)
Yellow feathers fall from a street light “That’s not nice—-!”
A plate of cookies marked with just a blood stain (“Nomnomnom—ope!”)
“One! One less muppet walking in the night! Ah Ah Ack!”)

You’d better leave, you’d better run for the Muppet Hunter Comes
He sings the song of the banshee, your only hope is but to flee.
So take that hand out of your ass and put your foot down on the gas
‘Fore the Muppet Hunter makes you breathe your last…

In the swamps no banjo plays, (“Aw, darn”)
Up in his room no Elmo sways (“La la la la la—Uck!”)
No more Martians on the stage ("Yip yip yip, nopenope nope”)
Grover has turned his final page. “Don’t turn the paaaag—Ugh.”)

Until all the street is still
In the air a final chill
And a single voice slips quiet through the night…

“Kermie? Where’s my Kermie? Oh, my… You! HIYA!”

You’d better leave, you’d better run ‘for Miss Piggy gets a gun
She sings the song of the banshee, your only hope is but to flee.
Discretion is the better part of valor, so vamoose…
Before Miss Piggy pounds you into juice.