Lyrics

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[Intro – CALEB, eyes wide, holding a ladle like a weapon]
CALEB:
Christina floated up last week and ain’t come down since.
Her hair split into directions and started making plans.
The forks bowed. The biscuits wept.
And I… haven’t slept.

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[Verse 1 – CHRISTINA, upside-down again, speaking to nobody—and everybody]
CHRISTINA:
Time’s a soup! Stir it wrong, it bites your toes.
The pie knows your secrets.
The gravy knows those.
I kissed a mirror and now it sings.
And I named my elbows “truth” and “wings.”

I don’t enter rooms—I declare myself there.
I once made tea with a lock of air.
The salt obeys. The meat submits.
I hiccuped once—three men had fits.

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[Hook – GROUP, trying to hold the floor down]
🎵 Tuesday bends when Christina spins.
The lights strobe red, the jelly grins.
Reality trembles, silverware crawls,
And the wallpaper hums down sacred halls.
The slaw recites Psalms, the ketchup cries,
The hushpuppies scream “open your eyes!”
She floats, she cackles, her teeth all itch—
You didn’t order chaos—
But she’s still your witch. 🎵

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[Verse 2 – FRANK, holding a fish with a bandage]
FRANK:
I fried a flounder that asked for prayer.
Said, “Keep me far from the one in the air.”
I told it, “Boy, that bird don’t land.”
And the fryer belched smoke in my left hand.

She turned the tartar into ink last night.
Now my notebook’s beggin’ me to never write.
I asked the trout for one clear view.
It said, “Ask Christina. She knows you.”

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[Verse 3 – TERRY, hiding under a table with his fishing pole]
TERRY:
Got three more letters from fish this week.
All written in tears, in tone and technique.
One said, “Terry, she’s folding the creek.”
Another said, “RUN.” And then sprung a leak.

I fish for peace, but she casts fate.
I once caught a minnow with a court date.
She’s upside-down. I’m out of bait.
She poured her laugh in my tackle crate.

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[Verse 4 – GLEN, sharpening two drumsticks like daggers]
GLEN:
FUCKING CHRISTINA!
She reversed the rice.
She made the napkins dance and splice.
Motörhead tried to jam through the storm—
But she became the thunder.
In pure dervish form.

She spun so hard the tiles split verse.
The ceiling blinked and whispered a curse.
Now every meal’s a dare, a test, a twitch—
We’re not eating.
We’re surviving the witch.

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[Final Hook – ALL CHARACTERS, voices wild, rhyming like the end is near]
🎵 Tuesday bends when Christina grins.
The wind goes sideways. The syrup sins.
Mac’s in the freezer, praying for lunch.
And the forks are forming a union bunch.
You can scream, you can run, you can cry to the pie—
But it’ll just giggle and butter your sigh.
She’s here, she’s loud, her hair might twitch—
She’s our problem now.
Long live the witch. 🎵

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[Outro – MS. MAE, sighing, pouring tea into a cup already full]
MS. MAE:
“She floats, sure.
But she always clears her plate.”