Singing on the roof tops

She sat down on the edge of a building roof. Down below her was the streets of karakura. She could see cars on the streets, people on the sidewalks, and overall peacefullness. It must have been about rush hour as the cars started to congest in the streets.

As the sun began to set she pulls off her gloves. She had slimey green skin. She had all 5 normal human fingers, but they had millions on small suction cups on them. She took the banjo off her back. She took out a guitar pic from her robes and picks a few notes as she warms up. She then begins to play a spirit filled tune:

I'll tattle a tale that is terribly true.
Started out as a rumor, but suddenly grew.
And it deals with a man, and a horse, and a ring.
So settle on in and our song we shall sing.....

She then begins to play faster.

It happened one day in a ring by a farm
Somethin' that tragically brought us much harm
How could a place abundant with charm
Create such a beast with a spear for an arm.

On death and destruction is what you will get
When he's coming for you and your kilt you will wet.
And he's big and he's strong and its quite plain to see.
That this is the Tale of the Nuckelavee.

Nuckelavee! Oh Nuckelavee
You're big and evil and heinous
Who could it be who set you free?
He really must be an anus.

Oh Nuckelavee it's easy to see
the terror you leave is raining on me.
The village is burned and the taverns are missed
and the beer is all gone and the elders are pissed.


And if they ever should find the fool
They'll hang him upside down by his tool
And spin him around until he gets sick
Ooh! Aah! Oh, that should do the trick.

Nuckelavee! Oh Nuckelavee
The terror you offer is high class
Who could it be who set you free?
He really must be a dumbass.

Nuckelavee! Oh Nuckelavee
The horror you furnish is widespread
Who could it be who set you free?
He really must be an ox-head.

Now everyone knows no blood should spill
In the sacred ring by the farm on the hill
And if this ever happens then Death you should fear.
He'll kick in your nuts and he'll serve them with beer.

So one final thought before I depart,
And this my friends comes straight from the heart.
We'd all be fine if not for that bell
And that horse killing wanker who opened up hell.

Nuckelavee! Oh Nuckelavee
We cannot win we must admit
Who could it be who set you free?
He really must be a dimwit.

Nuckelavee! Oh Nuckelavee
You're big and evil and heinous
Who could it be who set you free?
He really must be an anus.

She stops playing. She looks out over the city again. She had heard that song a very long time ago. She could not remember when. Maybe it was from when she was alive, and the scientist who she belonged to had sung it. He had been an scottsmen, and had been a great researcher in all things archaic. But in the end who really knew.