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By Robert Johnson Howard

Staring outside your window, trying hard not to catch your eye,
You’re the object of his obsession. He can’t even tell you why.

Eavesdrops when you’re talking, just to get up inside your head
At night your skin is crawling, He could be creeping out under your bed.

Don’t be walking in dark alleys
Cause he might be hanging round
You’re the star of his finale
He’s got to take you down
You’re the ledger that he tallies
He's not a threat to misconstrue
You’re just a long tall drink name Sally
And your nightmare just came true

He’s a Creeper, Coming down on you
Creeper, hell bent on you

His choice of clothes is nasty; He thinks he’s fly with the ladies
He’s stroking his chin with a crazy grin Pimping some old Mercedes
He loves it when you’re freak’n, You’re just a target to be scored
When your Creepers on the prowl You feel his circus at your door.


He was the outcast at the parties. Never gave him a second glance.
He was that disaffected emo kid, With his hands down in his pants.
The parents got a transfer He vanished without a trace
Come’s back 10 years later Just to get up in your face
What he wants you can’t give him. It’s not enough to fuel his fire
He just needs a little help to scratch the itch of his desire



released October 30, 2015
Lyrics, Music & Performance by Robert Johnson Howard



all rights reserved


Robert Johnson Howard Newport, Rhode Island

Writing and recording is my passion. Its like a painting. It doesn't do any good stuck in my head so I might as well get it on disk before it drives me to cut my ear off.


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