It's a good night for a Ghost Walk

It’s a ghost walk, not a cake walk,

There’s no money back here

If a dead mans right hand

Slapped you hard on your rear!

He’s invisible night

You can’t see him at all,

   Watch your feet on those steps, 

Else you stumble and fall.

Then whose cold hands will grip you?

Hold you hard, 

just that way,

Not a mere mortal man,

Not a human man, nay.

But a man with no heart,

With no life of his own.

Cursed, abandoned and dead

Buried long ‘neath these stones.

I can’t tell you his story, 

I don’t know who he is

But a ghost walk’s a ghost walk;

And this ghost walk’s his.