Lyrics

I’m being haunted. There’s someone in here I can’t see. Is it the sprit of Gloria Helen looking after me?
Turned on the radio in the kitchen; the light out in the hall. Footsteps in the attic when night begins to fall.
Maybe its wishful thinking or a hallucination I’ve succumbed, but there’s no explanation for the ring left upon that hutch. I’ve heard the scientists try to debunk every account, but Lord, there has to be more after this world than sleeping in the ground. I’m being haunted, an old friend he visited me. We sat together talking in my dream just like we had for years. Then round about midnight, I said, “Something isn’t right.
You’re not supposed to still be here.” And he vanished out of sight. Maybe it’s wishful thinking or hallucination I’ve succumbed, but I swear there was something he wanted to say by coming back around.
I’ve read all the journals try to disprove every account, but Lord, there has to be more after this world than sleeping in the ground. Maybe it’s hallucination or the ghost I may become, but last night we had a visitor for dinner and she’s been gone eleven months. I’ve read the good book and every nihilist account, but Lord, there has to be more after this world than sleeping in the ground.