| On a misbegotten, moonless night
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| I stumbled in my door
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| Disgusted with my circumstance
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| Soaked to every pore
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| When floating from my bedroom
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| Came a moaning and a sigh
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| «Oh, I’ve had one too many
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| It’s just the wind,» says I
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| I lit up a cigarette
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| And I poured a good, stiff drink
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| You see, I needed to compose myself
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| I needed time to think
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| No sooner had I settled down
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| The moaning came again
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| Drifting through the silence
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| Like some otherworldly violin
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| I bounded up the staircase
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| I went slippin' and slidin' down the hall
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| You know, I’ve been around the whole, wide world
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| But I was not prepared at all
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| Uninvited visitor, unsuspecting host
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| «Well, I see you’ve made yourself at home
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| Good evening, Miss Ghost.»
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| You’re more beautiful than ever
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| I feel just like a kid
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| And I commence to trembling
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| When I think of all the things we did
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| Skin as pale as marble; |
| lips as red as blood
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| Imagine my surprise, my dear
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| I thought that you were gone for good
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| You look so lovely lying there
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| All stretched out on your back
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| But I’m the one who’s strung up here
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| On old temptation’s rusty rack
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| And in the wee small hours
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| Is when I miss you the most
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| And I confess it, I have missed you
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| Miss Ghost
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| I threw open the window
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| And I howled at the rain
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| And I cursed the weakness of the flesh
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| This breath and bone—and this brute, reptilian brain
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| What dirty tricks the mind can play
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| In the lonely dead of night
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| When you bump into the shadow
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| Of a faded love that wasn’t right
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| Way down beneath the surface
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| Far beyond the light of day
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| So many things lie buried deep
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| And baby, they should stay that way
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| Oh, my wicked, little habit
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| We’ve really made a mess
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| Everything’s been trivialized
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| In our vain pursuit of happiness
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| And even though you’ve come for me
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| I won’t go back with you
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| To some temporary heaven
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| Down some empty, dead-end avenue
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| But it’s been so good to have you here
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| And I propose a toast
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| «Here's to seeing through you—
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| Miss Ghost.» |