"Ha. I'm not scared of 'em, Scuzzy..." "They're just a bunch of wraiths and shades... it's not like they're CLOWNS or something..." [Verse 1] The wind did keen ‘gainst windowpane, the shutters banged in wrath, While lightning lit the hearthstone rug and split the garden path. I, striped of hide and hoof of tread, lay curled in wool and fright, My tasseled tail a trembled lash beneath the TV’s light. The sugar-clown in painted guise, with gaze so wide and slack— He rose again to haunt my screen. Oh mercy—Happy Jack. His jingled step, his puppet kin, all sang with stitched delight— Yet every word rang like a bell that tolls before the night. [Chorus 1] O Lord, preserve this gentle beast Whose heart leaps like a hunted feast. I hide my eyes behind hooves black— To banish smiling Happy Jack. For as I neigh and spill my snack, He sees me still, that... Happy Jack. [Verse 2] His felted friends spoke in twisting rhymes and sang of “kindness” fair— While Jack exclaimed, “Let's learn the patterns we all love to wear!” Then came the line—enigmatic—“And if you’ve stripes, hooray!” A wink. A laugh. A jingled bell… and all my blood gave way. For though he grinned at every child, and not at me direct, The word had passed his painted lips—I knew what he’d select. “Stripes,” he said… that curse-ed sign… as thunder rolled anew— And my bless-ed black and white hairs stood up, in dread, and knew. [Chorus 2] Spare me, saints! I’ve done no wrong! I only came to sing along. My cocoa chills, my breath draws slack— The screen still smiles with Happy Jack. My ears lay flat, my vision black— It’s him. It’s always... Happy Jack. [Bridge] I saw his lips but heard no sound… The room grew thick, the screen unwound. My hooves were cold. My mane was damp. The lights went dim. The world went… clamp. No thunder now. Just static’s hiss. The puppets froze mid-clap, mid-kiss. Then slowly… slowly… turned his head, He laughed, “Let's sing from A... to Zeb!” [Verse 3] I screamed—I brayed—I kicked the stand, the screen fell with a crash! And there I lay, mid toppled frame, in blankets soaked with mash. A zebra lost to curse-ed lore, to clowns with endless cheer, Who smile not out of love or joy—but just to stoke our fear. The storm moved on. The silence thick. The room now dark and bare. But in the mess upon the floor… his smile was waiting there. [Chorus 3] O stripe-bound beast, beware the screen, And clowns who smile too wide, too clean. No charm nor chant can bring me back— Not from the curse of Happy Jack. His giggle prickling through my sack… This man, this horror, this... Happy Jack. [Outro] “A zebra, I was born to run, so how is it now that I am too frightened to move?” "Ha. Okay, maybe this place is a little scary... heh."
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