JACK Listen, there were objects so peculiar They were not to be believed All around, things to tantalize my brain
It's a world unlike anything I've ever seen And as hard as I try I can't seem to describe Like a most improbable dream
But you must believe when I tell you this It's as real as my skull and it does exist Here, let me show you
This is a thing called a present The whole thing starts with a box
DEVIL A box? is it steel?
WEREWOLF Are there locks?
HARLEOUIN DEMON Is it filled with a pox?
DEVIL, WEREWOLF, HARLEQUIN DEMON A pox How delightful, a pox
JACK If you please Just a box with bright-colored paper And the whole thing's topped with a bow
WITCHES A bow? But why? How ugly What's in it? What's in it?
JACK That's the point of the thing, not to know
CLOWN It's a bat Will it bend?
CREATURE UNDER THE STAIRS It's a rat Will it break?
UNDERSEA GAL Perhaps it s the head that I found in the lake
JACK Listen now, you don't understand That's not the point of Christmas land
Now, pay attention Now we pick up an oversized sock And hang it like this on the wall
MR. HYDE Oh, yes! Does it still have a foot?
MEDIUM MR. HYDE Let me see, let me look
SMALL MR. HYDE Is it rotted and covered with gook?
JACK Hmm, let me explain There's no foot inside, but there's candy Or sometimes it's filled with small toys
MUMMY AND WINGED DEMON Small toys
WINGED DEMON Do they bite?
MUMMY Do they snap?
WINGED DEMON Or explode in a sack?
CORPSE KID Or perhaps they just spring out And scare girls and boys
MAYOR What a splendid idea This Christmas sounds fun Why, I fully endorse it Let's try it at once
JACK Everyone, please now, not so fast There's something here that you don't quite grasp Well, I may as well give them what they want
And the best, I must confess, I have saved for the last For the ruler of this Christmas land Is a fearsome king with a deep mighty voice Least that's what I've come to understand
And I've also heard it told That he's something to behold Like a lobster, huge and red And sets out to slay with his rain gear on Carting bulging sacks with his big great arms That is, so I've heard it said
And on a dark, cold night Under full moonlight He flies into a fog Like a vulture in the sky And they call him Sandy Claws
Well, at least they're excited Though they don't understand That special kind of feeling in Christmas land Oh, well...Teksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
