JackListen, everyone: there were objects so peculiarThey were not to be believedAll around, things to tantalize my brainIt's a world unlike anything I've ever seenAnd as hard as I tryI can't seem to describeLike a most improbable dreamBut you must believe when I tell you thisIt's as real as my skull and it does existHere, let me show youThis is a thing called a presentThe whole thing starts with a boxHarlequin demonA box?DevilIs it steel?WerewolfAre there locks?Harleouin demonIs it filled with a pox?Devil, werewolf, harlequin demonA poxHow delightful, a poxJackIf you pleaseJust a box with bright-colored paperAnd the whole thing's topped with a bowWitchesA bow?But why?How uglyWhat's in it?What's in it?JackThat's the point of the thing, not to knowClownIt's a batWill it bend?Creature under the stairsIt's a ratWill it break?Undersea galPerhaps it s the head that I found in the lakeJackListen now, you don't understandThat's not the point of Christmas landNow, pay attentionNow we pick up an oversized sockAnd hang it like this on the wallMr. HydeOh, yes! Does it still have a foot?Medium mr. HydeLet me see, let me lookSmall mr. HydeIs it rotted and covered with gook?JackHmm, let me explainThere's no foot inside, but there's candyOr sometimes it's filled with small toysMummy and winged demonSmall toysWinged demonDo they bite?MummyDo they snap?Winged demonOr explode in a sack?Corpse kidOr perhaps they just spring outAnd scare girls and boysMayorWhat a splendid ideaThis Christmas sounds funWhy, I fully endorse itLet's try it at onceJackEveryone, please now, not so fastThere's something here that you don't quite graspWell, I may as well give them what they wantAnd the best, I must confess, I have saved for the lastFor the ruler of this Christmas landIs a fearsome king with a deep mighty voiceLeast that's what I've come to understandAnd I've also heard it toldThat he's something to beholdLike a lobster, huge and redAnd sets out to slay with his rain gear onCarting bulging sacks with his big great armsThat is, so I've heard it saidAnd on a dark, cold nightUnder full moonlightHe flies into a fogLike a vulture in the skyAnd they call him Sandy ClawsWell, at least they're excitedThough they don't understandThat special kind of feeling in Christmas landOh, well...
Songs by Nightmare Before Christmas
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