A TRANSYLVANIAN LIEBESTOD (©Words and music by Paul F. Cowlan)

The ‘barking’ and ‘biting’ part of this song was inspired by a political harangue I once received during  a German Election Week. It would be more than my life’s worth to reveal the name of the speaker. ‘Liebe’ is ‘love’ ‘tod’ is ‘death. and by a fortunate coincidence, ‘Leib’ is ‘corpse’. So even if you misspell the the title you’re still safe - that is, unless you decide to go to the party.


Once a vampire lived alone
in a ruined castle with walls of stone.
He slept in a coffin the whole day through;
there was really very little else for him to do.
What he really craved was love and affection
but he couldn’t get going in the right direction,
so he used to sing this lonely vampire song.

“I can’t bark, but I sure can bite!
I look my best in the middle of the night.
I need a pretty little demon or a female ghoul,
sweet sixteen and just out of school.
I try so hard but I never seem to meet her,
even when I do she always thinks I’m going to eat her,
and sometimes I’m so lonesome I could howl.”

Then one evening in the local ‘rag’
he saw the full-length portrait of a toothless hag,
and the outsized Gothic headline read,
  

‘Computer-Dating for the Living Dead!
Strangle your sorrows and throttle your cares.
Meet the partner of your Nightmares.
Simply state your preferences, and sign your name.’


So he filled in the form and pressed it flat,
tied it to the leg of his carrier-bat.
And as he watched it flit out into the night
he was trembling with suppressed delight.

The very next evening he received a call
inviting him to the ‘Banshee Ball.’
So he scrubbed his teeth and cleaned his nails,
put on his top-hat, coat and ‘tails.’
You may be sure that he was not late.
He was so excited he could hardly wait,
because this was the moment he’d been waiting for.

On the floor of the main ballroom,
in the cobwebs, dust and gloom,
dancers were shuffling to and fro
while the music played both flat and slow.

There were transvestite ogres, perverted gnomes,
senile zombies from Old-Ghosts Homes,
harpies and lamias and gorgons too;
he could hardly believe that it was true.
But when his hostess came into sight
it was love at the very first bite.
She admired his fangs, he adored her voice,
and by the end of the evening they had made their choice.
                                            
They stood together in the freezing night,
never dared to let each other out of sight;
and while she howled to the Northern Star
he contemplated her jugular.
And when the agent called to collect his fee
they invited him in and ate him for tea.
They were Transylvania’s ‘Lovers of The Year.’

Now they’re never lonely, they have lots of fun,
and they send out invitations to everyone;
but, unless you are an ogress or an evil gnome,
you’d be wiser to stay at home.