My family put me in an old age home To die like an old man here all alone They said it was because I was talking to a ghost A strange thing I never really meant to boast
But she wanted my house for herself to claim She had nowhere else to go, and didn't have a name This ghost, she was never my guest, I was never her host But of all the homes on my street, she loved mine the most
When I finally died one pretty September day I went back to my house and told her she couldn't stay She said, "Fine old man, we will play a game, and every morning it will always be the same. I will race you to the house and whoever comes in first Gets to haunt the house for the day, to the loser be cursed."
So we played her game and everyday I would win I'd stay in the house and haunt from within The secret of my success was no secret all While she opened the front door, I went through the wall.
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