, night. The camera pans down from a neon
lamp, to Spike
, illuminated by the glow. He looks broodily around for a moment, the light shining dully on the leather
he wears. Suddenly, he grins, and pulls out a ukulele
(as you do), and begins to sing, to the tune of the George Formby
I'm leaning on a lamp,
Maybe you know that I'm a vamp,
And you may think I'm hanging round to suck some gore.
But no, although that's true, it isn't what I plan to do
I'll tell you why I'm here and what I'm waiting for.
I'm leaning on a lamppost at the corner of the street
In case a certain little slayer comes by,
Oh me, oh my, I hope that pretty slayer comes by.
I only want to try my skill, I'm sure she wants to make the kill
And anyhow I know that she'll try,
Oh me, oh my, I hope that little slayer comes by.
There's no other girl I would wait for,
This one I'd risk tempting fate for,
I won't have to ask what the stake's for.
She wants to dust my arse, it's not a chance to pass
Oh she's resolutely dutiful and super-strong and beautiful,
And anyone can understand why,
I'm leaning on a lamppost at the corner of the street,
In case a certain little slayer comes by.