Dollies to Wiggle

Please let this mean Zachary Zatara was somehow involved in Eddie learning this, I love their friendship dearly.

(Though with nether magic and knowing Eddie, Neron is almost certainly involved).

Here’s the lyrics I wrote for “Don’t you panic don’t you fret” composed and sung by @lonesome-cowpoke along with a little intro that didn’t make it into the update (context for outsiders: this is a in universe college theatre production)

When I was a sparkle in my creators eye a zinester with no ambition, nothing more than an expressive sigh of a girl with twisted intuition

I watched and learned and slashed my way, through the shapes and thoughts of better days, a simple task of a playful ruse, to bring odd comfort to those who knew

I never was a killer, maybe just a choir? Singing of the dreadful pain that stole her friends and drew my ire 

Then they tore and they pried, intent away from the zinesters cries, kicked her to the curb! interpreted me this way! I manifest their fears and recite my lines in this dribbling blood drenched butchers play! 

A drawing and now a slasher, a blue pillar that sways along, with love and malice and fright in hand with ever sharpened blade. My hands will strangle, they will choke, sit down, cutie try not to croak. 

Chorus:

Don’t you panic 

Don’t you fret 

The slashers not quite ready yet 

The movies still in commission

And your soul is in remission

Cutting out your condition 

With the measurements of truth 

Bring your will together 

And get the affairs required~

To face the art smeared by the feckless words of childish jealous liars 

Turquoise flesh with crescent eyes, dribbling mouth of severed ties, tangled hair of matted truth, blue gloved fingers that set you loose. Hatful of clever watchful lies, arms that arc like restless scythes. Sharpened Heels weep and mourn, guts and giblets she will pour. 

Perfect slasher inhabited, by fallouts bloody smeary strokes, desperate clutches grip with glee the truth that runs to and fro, through the night and through the streets, fearful of the dreadful beast, blue soaked skin and bleary eyes, your fate trapped in pencil lines. 

* People's fears become real when they die.

* When people try to push for answers, the place pushes back.