The second song in the 'Anastasia' series. The whole 'Anastasia' series is soon to be re-released in a re-recorded version - this skeletal version was originally released on the Undinal Songs album, 2002.

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Anastasia Moonshadow - or, as her parents call her, Stacey - is not a real person, or even an impersonation of one. However, I can safely say that I have met her.
The wiccan/neo-Pagan movement is no longer distinct from the gothic subculture, to, I believe, the mutual disbenefit of both sides. This is mainly due to people like Stacey.
This song is based on a story I was told as fact from local gothic circles, which later turned out not to be. So, this is a work of fiction based on a work of fiction. It can be criticised for making queer female desire look demented and obsessive, although it stands in that regard fully in the tradition of most lesbian romance fiction up to about ten years ago. The "posters of Death on the wall" of course make it clear that our heroine is a fan of Neil Gaiman, an extremely talented author and charming man who is followed by packs of Stacies wherever he goes.

Anastasia had jet-black hair

And her face was the colour of mould

She walked around with a permanent sneer

Her voice and her handshake were cold

Miranda thought she was wonderful

The most beautiful girl ever seen

But Stacey didn't esteem her at all

Looked through her like she wasn't there

How could she be so blind?

Miranda knew they were meant for each other

She'd make her change her mind



Climbing the drainpipe in the dead of night

With her fishnets caught in the screws

Swung in the window with her boots on tight

Not a moment of time left to lose

Miranda knew it was Stacey's room

From the posters of Death on the wall

She laid them out by the light of the moon

On her pillow, a single rose

And a poem that told of her need

She rubbed her hands along Stacey's clothes

And went back out the window at speed



She dyed her hair, and she painted her face

She wore silver and crystal and bone

Of the old Miranda there was little trace

She'd become Anastasia's clone

With the black eyeliner and the velvet dress

But still Stacey's heart was like stone -

Miranda sat by the phone

Waiting for Stacey to call

But if you asked her what she was doing

She wasn't waiting at all.



Anastasia was a little disgusted

And more than a little afraid

She decided to use her magic

To deal with this monster she'd made

She made a doll and she filled it with pins

She sent it to Miranda by mail

And two weeks later the news came in -

Miranda had just left town

And that filled Stacey with joy

But there was something she didn't expect -

Miranda'd taken Stacey's boy.



[...]

She was better than the real thing in every respect

It was not wise to leave her alone

Now Stacey sits by the phone

Waits for her boyfriend to call

But if you ask her what she's doing

She isn't waiting at all.