Al B. Damned–Home Is Where The Haunt Is

For Old Times Stake

All the screams that keep me awake,
The bumps in the night,
The shivers and shakes,
Every little noise when I’m all alone,
Makes this haunted house a home.
All the creaks in the dead of night,
The dolls in the basement,
The flickering lights,
Every little knock that chills your bones,
Makes this haunted house a home.
In a world among the living,
Is somewhere I cannot be,
You can try to understand,
But I know that you’ll never see,
That home is where the haunt is,
And the dead have a home for me.
All the spiders that creep and crawl,
The whispering voices that come through the walls,
Every little fear of the unknown,
Makes this haunted house a home.
All the shadows in the corridor,
The chimes of the clock,
The blood on the floor,
Every little spook when I’m on my own,
Makes this haunted house a home.
In a world among the living,
Is somewhere I cannot be,
You can try to understand,
But I know that you’ll never see,
That home is where the haunt is,
And the dead have a home for me.
In a world among the living,
Is somewhere I cannot be,
You can try to understand,
But I know that you’ll never see,
That home is where the haunt is,
And the dead have a home for me.

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