Song: "The Creepy Little Girl"
I found this in my neglected word documents when I was looking for something else the other day. It needs a tune, and then a rewrite based on how singable it turns out to be.
Lost track of the date I wrote this, but I'm pretty sure it's from last summer at about this time, after I attended NecronomiCon, bought a bronze hand pendant from Hibernacula, and thought it looked like something Wednesday Addams would wear in her college hippie phase. I was also thinking of Thora Birch's performance as Dani Dennison in Hocus Pocus. They arrive at the same kind of power by different routes. Wednesday Addams was born weird, and she instinctively knows how to carry herself in horrifying situations. That becomes useful when she's confronted with seemingly normal events--a relative getting married, a summer at camp--and sees the horror in them before anybody else does. Dani is a sweet and irritating little "normal" horror protagonist, but she adapts to her story so well that before long she's declaring herself a witch for self-preservation, falling in love with a ghost catboy, and adopting a zombie like it's her big dorky son.
The Creepy Little Girl
She is so pale
Watching all night and then going to school in the day.
So small and frail,
Anyone flying could grab her and bear her away.
Wide are her eyes:
She's too young to know of the evil that people may do.
She is so wise,
She knows it regardless and wishes that she never knew.
Don't call her, for God's sake,
The creepy little girl;
Bad nights and lies make
The creepy little girl.
She'll stare you down:
Worse things than you are awaiting her later by dark.
Hard is her frown,
Hoping she won't have to dig one more grave in the park.
Young though she's old,
We all look like kids to her, maybe we're worthy to save,
Her hands are cold:
She's reached to a dead man and drawn him up out of his grave.
You won't hear her deeds,
The creepy little girl;
Yet humanity needs
The creepy little girl.
Mary Janes and dress in black,
Pigtails, kneesocks, old knapsack.
This is Sarah my pet snake,
This knife's real and this knife's fake.
Life is never dull or tame.
What is real? Let's play a game.
It's called, "Is There A God?"
Shiver at seeing
The creepy little girl;
Thank her for being
The creepy little girl.
Lost track of the date I wrote this, but I'm pretty sure it's from last summer at about this time, after I attended NecronomiCon, bought a bronze hand pendant from Hibernacula, and thought it looked like something Wednesday Addams would wear in her college hippie phase. I was also thinking of Thora Birch's performance as Dani Dennison in Hocus Pocus. They arrive at the same kind of power by different routes. Wednesday Addams was born weird, and she instinctively knows how to carry herself in horrifying situations. That becomes useful when she's confronted with seemingly normal events--a relative getting married, a summer at camp--and sees the horror in them before anybody else does. Dani is a sweet and irritating little "normal" horror protagonist, but she adapts to her story so well that before long she's declaring herself a witch for self-preservation, falling in love with a ghost catboy, and adopting a zombie like it's her big dorky son.
The Creepy Little Girl
She is so pale
Watching all night and then going to school in the day.
So small and frail,
Anyone flying could grab her and bear her away.
Wide are her eyes:
She's too young to know of the evil that people may do.
She is so wise,
She knows it regardless and wishes that she never knew.
Don't call her, for God's sake,
The creepy little girl;
Bad nights and lies make
The creepy little girl.
She'll stare you down:
Worse things than you are awaiting her later by dark.
Hard is her frown,
Hoping she won't have to dig one more grave in the park.
Young though she's old,
We all look like kids to her, maybe we're worthy to save,
Her hands are cold:
She's reached to a dead man and drawn him up out of his grave.
You won't hear her deeds,
The creepy little girl;
Yet humanity needs
The creepy little girl.
Mary Janes and dress in black,
Pigtails, kneesocks, old knapsack.
This is Sarah my pet snake,
This knife's real and this knife's fake.
Life is never dull or tame.
What is real? Let's play a game.
It's called, "Is There A God?"
Shiver at seeing
The creepy little girl;
Thank her for being
The creepy little girl.