there is a house that sits on the end of Leben Lane
a triple-tiered behemoth atop the hill on Leben Lane
long lay the house in ruin and decay
empty and forlorn for not a one would stay
the sacred cannot be found on this part of the lane
but the unholy traverse, celebrating the profane
careful, my dear
careful, my dear
you mustn’t get too near
where specters sing unholy songs and witches dine with priests
where angels and devils join for tea and saints and sinners have feasts
through It’s broken eyes you can see them dance
floating and gliding in a languid trance
goblins and ghouls singing heinous hymns outright;
a million voices ringing through the house, echoing through the night
careful, my dear
careful, my dear
you mustn’t get too near
there is a house that sits on the end of Leben Lane
a temple where prayers and crying never wane
and in the witching way of things sublime
the house on Leben transcends space and time
jerking souls to seek penance for sins unwanted
baby, its more than houses that are haunted
careful, my dear
careful, my dear
you mustn’t get too near
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