Town Meeting Song Lyrics - Singles - The Nightmare Before Christmas

Listen everyone, 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 

A box? Is it steel? Are there locks? 

Is it filled with a pox? A pox, how delightful, a pox 

If you please, just a box with bright-colored paper 

And the whole thing's topped with a bow 

A bow? But why? How ugly? 

What's in it? What's in it? 

That's the point of the thing, not to know 

It's a bat, will it bend? It's a rat, will it break? 

Perhaps it's the head that I found in the lake 

Listen now, you don't understand 

That's not the point of Christmas land 

Now, pay attention, we pick up an over-sized sock 

And hang it like this on the wall 

Oh, yes, does it still have a foot? 

Let me see, let me look 

Is it rotted and covered with gook? 

Let me explain, there's no foot inside, but there's candy 

Or sometimes it's filled with small toys 

Small toys, do they bite? Do they snap? 

Or explode in a sack? Or perhaps they just spring out 

And scare girls and boys 

What a splendid idea, this Christmas sounds fun 

Why, I fully endorse it, let's try it at once 

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