Ghost Upstairs

On the mid-night dreary While I ponder weak and weary From a long trip on the eerie Comes a rapping at my chamber door It's an exit of plastic tapping That serves my nightly napping Like a shroud that's gently flapping Emminating from the second floor But it's always me and the ghost upstairs Sipping our tea, me and the ghost upstairs

But he's inclined to moan when left alone So I think of things that'll take a hill funny bone Lonely old ghost upstairs Regular folks, dropping our worldly cares Swapping our jokes, me and the ghost upstairs And then he slaps his shroud and lapsed out loud And he says, oh boy, that'll paralyze all the ground

Jolly old goes upstairs, he's quite a cook He serves a beautiful drink, he wrote a book And with invisible ink, I took a look And the title, pawn my faith, was the groups of race Once and a while, he brings a gang of friends Does it in style?

Tell us what he's been. And all the places small we have a ball cause you know those books don't require no room at all. We have some might if I'm a fan. Me and the ghost upstairs.

So my tip fine up ain't me and the ghost upstairs