The Book Of BOO!
abstract reality ghosts and other bumps in the night
~ an eclectic collection of spirits of the season, from the archives and beyond ~
,the ectoplasm blues (a lilting riff on spirits in the night)
it's not necessarily rattling chains and howls and some distant scream,
it's just that what is, is not what it would seem:
a presence in the room, felt as an icy cold breeze; oh my, it makes you go weak in the knees
on a night when the wind is more than alive in the tall autumn trees...
a dream? a faint suspicion in the air?
something not quite usual that raises your hair,
in fact, my friend, look close, very close,
it's right over there.
ghosts, spirits, disembodied voices of all who have gone before,
perhaps not a worry, ah, but then again, perhaps something more:
listen to their woes and tales of realms far from our safe secure homes,
as they point to the day when our only footprint on this earth
is our old buried bones.
tis the season of things that go bump in the night,
tho some say it feels strangely normal to have a bit of a fright;
that is the way that it is, so they say, on the day of the dead;
BUT WAIT!
do i hear a strange sound under your bed,
is there something unusual scratching and stirring around?
is there a lost memory there
longing to be found?
a thing from the past that finds you at last
with stories to spin of where they have been,
whispering of hauntings with a devilish grin?
be that as it may,
i really must say
on this All Hallow's Eve
before you take leave,
"i bid you sweet dreams"
when all that is, may not be all that it seems,
though rest assured, my friend,
and surely you know what i mean,
that you'll be forgiven
for a few quiet screams...
it's not necessarily rattling chains and howls and some distant scream,
it's just that what is, is not what it would seem:
a presence in the room, felt as an icy cold breeze; oh my, it makes you go weak in the knees
on a night when the wind is more than alive in the tall autumn trees...
a dream? a faint suspicion in the air?
something not quite usual that raises your hair,
in fact, my friend, look close, very close,
it's right over there.
ghosts, spirits, disembodied voices of all who have gone before,
perhaps not a worry, ah, but then again, perhaps something more:
listen to their woes and tales of realms far from our safe secure homes,
as they point to the day when our only footprint on this earth
is our old buried bones.
tis the season of things that go bump in the night,
tho some say it feels strangely normal to have a bit of a fright;
that is the way that it is, so they say, on the day of the dead;
BUT WAIT!
do i hear a strange sound under your bed,
is there something unusual scratching and stirring around?
is there a lost memory there
longing to be found?
a thing from the past that finds you at last
with stories to spin of where they have been,
whispering of hauntings with a devilish grin?
be that as it may,
i really must say
on this All Hallow's Eve
before you take leave,
"i bid you sweet dreams"
when all that is, may not be all that it seems,
though rest assured, my friend,
and surely you know what i mean,
that you'll be forgiven
for a few quiet screams...
