The Making of Tim Burton's 'The Nightmare Before Christmas' Page #4

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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

When he 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

But they don't understand

That special kind of feeling|in Christmasland

Oh, well.

Hmm.

Hmm.

There's got to be a logical way|to explain this Christmas thing.

You've poisoned me for the|last time, you wretched girl.

Oh, my head!

The door is open!

- Hello!|- Jack Skellington!

- Up here, my boy.|- Doctor, I need to borrow some|equipment.

Is that so? Whatever for?

I'm conducting a series|of experiments.

How perfectly marvelous!

- Curiosity killed the cat, you know.|- I know.

Come on into the lab|and we'll get you all fixed up.

Hmm. Experiments?

Zero, I'm home!

Interesting reaction!|But what does it mean?

You can come out now|if you promise to behave.

Sally?

Sally?

Oh, gone again!

Hmm.

Oh!

Something's up with Jack|Something's up with Jack

Don't know if we're ever|going to get him back

He's all alone up there|locked away inside

- Never says a word|- Hope he hasn't died

Something's up with Jack|Something's up with Jack

Christmastime|is buzzing in my skull

Will it let me be|I cannot tell

There's so many things|I cannot grasp

When I think I've got it|and then at last

Through my bony fingers|it does slip

Like a snowflake|in a fiery grip

Something here I'm not quite getting|Though I try I keep forgetting

Like a memory|long since past

Here in an instant|Gone in a flash

What does it mean|What does it mean

In these little bric-a-brac|A secret's waiting to be cracked

These dolls and toys confuse me so|Confound it all, I love it though

Simple objects, nothing more|But something's hidden through a door

Though I do not have the key|Something's here I cannot see

What does it mean|What does it mean

What does it mean

Hmm. Hmm.

I've read these Christmas books|so many times

I know the stories|and I know the rhymes

I know the Christmas carols|all by heart

My skull's so full|it's tearing me apart

As often as I've read them|Something's wrong

It's so hard to put|my bony finger on

Or perhaps it's really not as deep|as I've been led to think

Am I trying much too hard

Of course|I've been too close to see

The answer's right in front of me|Right in front of me

It's simple really, very clear|Like music drifting in the air

Invisible but everywhere

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