The Curse of Millhaven
I live in a town called Millhaven,And it's small and it's mean and it's cold,But if you come around just as the sun goes downYou can watch the whole thing turn to goldIt's around then that I used to go a-roamingLa la-la-la, la la-la-lieAll God's children, they all gotta die!
My name is Loretta but I prefer LottieI'm closing in on my fifteenth yearAnd if you think that you've seen a pair of eyes more greenThen you sure haven't seen them around hereMy hair is yellow and I'm always a-combingLa la-la-la, la la-la-lieMama oft' told me that we all got to die!
You must have heard about the Curse of Millhaven,How last Christmas Bill Blake's little boy didn't come homeThey found him the next week, up in One Mile creekWith his head bashed in and his pockets full of stonesWell, just imagine all the wailing and moaningLa la-la-la, la la-la-lieEven Bill Blake's boy, he had to die!
Then Professor O'Rye, from Millhaven HighFound nailed to his door his prize-winning terrierThen next day the old fool brought little Biko to schoolAnd we all had to watch as he buried herWell his eulogy to Biko had all the tears a-flowingLa la-la-la, la la-la-lieEven God's little creatures, they have to die!
Our little town fell into a state of shockA lot of people were saying things that made little senseThen the next thing you know the head of Handyman JoeWas found in the fountain of the Mayor's residenceFoul play can really get a small town goingLa la-la-la, la la-la-lieEven God's children, they have to die!
In a cruel twist of fate, old Mrs. ColgateWas stabbed but the job was not completeWell, the last thing she said before the cops pronounced her deadWas, “My killer is Loretta and she lives across the street!”Twenty cops burst through my door without even phoningLa la-la-la, la la-la-lieThe young ones, the old ones, they all got to die!
Yes, it is I, Lottie, the Curse of MillhavenI've struck horror in the heart of this townLike my eyes ain't green and my hair ain't yellow —It's more like the other way aroundI gotta pretty little mouth underneath all the foamingLa la-la-la, la la-la-lieSooner or later we all gotta die!
Since I was no bigger than a weevil they've been saying I was evilThat if “bad” was a boot that I'd fit itThat I'm a wicked young lady, but I've been trying hard latelyO fuck it! I'm a monster! I admit it!It makes me so mad that my blood really starts a-goingLa la-la-la, la la-la-lieMama always told me that we all gotta die!
Yeah, I drowned the Baley kid, stabbed Mrs. Colgate, I admitDid the handyman with his circular saw in his garden shedBut I never crucified little Biko,That was two junior high school psychosStinky Bohoon and his friend with the pumpkin-sized headI'll sing to the lot, now that you got me goingLa la-la-la, la la-la-lieAll God's children have all gotta die!
There were all the others, all our sisters and brothersYou assumed were accidents, best forgottenRecall the children who broke through the ice on Lake Tahoo?Everyone assumed the “Warning” signsHad followed them to the bottomWell, they're underneath the house where I do quite a bit of stowingLa la-la-la, la la-la-lieEven twenty little children, they had to die!
And the fire of '91 that razed the Bella Vista slumThere was the biggest shit-fight this country's ever seenInsurance companies ruined, land lords getting suedAll cause of a wee girl with a can of gasolineThose flames really roared when the wind started blowing!La la-la-la, la la-la-lieThe rich men, and the poor men, they all got to die!
Well, I confessed to all these crimes and they put me on trialI was laughing when they took me awayOff to the asylum in an old black MariahWell it ain't home, but you know, it's better than jailIt ain't such bad old place to have a home inLa la-la-la, la la-la-lieAll God's children they all gotta die!
Now I got shrinks that will not restWith their endless Rorschach testsI keep telling them that I think they're out to get meThey ask me if I feel remorse and I answer, “Why of course!There is so much more I could have done if they'd let me!”So it's Rorschach and Prozac and everything is groovyLa la-la-la, la la-la-lieAll God's children they all have to dieLa la-la-la, la la-la-lieI'm happy as a lark now and everything is fineLa la-la-la, la la-la-lieYeah, everything is groovy, everything is fineLa la-la-la, la la-la-lieAll God's children they gotta die