This House Is Haunted
I was sitting in my room, dark and gray and crying
Someone in my life I fear was at the point of dying
A cold wind blew right up my spine, it was the break of dawn
A little voice went deep inside told me she was gone
Oh...This house is haunted
Oh...That's how I want it to be
Oh...This house is haunted
You can always stay here with me...
No more singing, no more laughing, no more sunny days
She left and took the colors with her, buried in her grave
This is where we climbed the tower, this is where she fell
Then when her young heart stopped beating, I went to hell
Oh...This house is haunted
Oh...Ha....
Oh...This house is haunted
Ho...Oh...
You float through the living room, I watch my TV
I feel you sit down on the couch right here next to me
Then I feel your lips touch mine just like we used to do
I'm so happy all alone being here with you...
song performed by by Alice Cooper
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Related quotes
The Haunted
I sleep, I wake, just same.
Haunted.
Tears don't work.
Pain won't go.
Haunted.
Maybe its here to stay.
My bag of rocks.
Haunted.
No great purpose.
Just be my load.
Haunted.
To hold me back.
This heavy sack.
Haunted.
I wake today. Maybe time to pray.
Haunted.
This curse must go.
Hit lowest low.
Haunted.
Nightmare of my soul.
My mind. My heart
My entire being.
Haunted.
Haunted. Haunted. Haunted.
I am
The walking. The crawling. The waiting. The moving. The wailing.
The death defying.
I am
The Haunted.
poem by Lindsay Maasdorp
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Haunted
(jeff barry / bobby bloom)
Ooh, hoo
I cant eat right
I cant sleep nights
Oh, honey look at what youve done to me
Life is nowhere
And its no fair
cause youve got me by the memory
Oh, now I feel you near me
And see your face
In my dreams
Every hour all night through
Oh, Im haunted
Yes Im haunted, haunted by you
There aint no doubt
I cant get out
Of this trouble that youve got me in
If I hurt you
Didnt mean to
Oh, and Im sorry
Aint the word Ive been
And if you dont come back to me pretty soon
I dont know what Im gonna do
cause Im haunted
Yes Im haunted, haunted by you, woah, oh
Oh, I just cant forget you
cause you haunt me everywhere I go
Oh Im begging you
Dont say no
No, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no
And if you dont come back to me pretty soon
I dont know what Im gonna do
cause Im haunted
Said Im haunted,ooh, haunted by you
Oh, haunted by you
Haunted by you
Haunted by you-hoo
Haunted by you
Oh, haunted by you
Baby, haunted by you
Ooh, by you
song performed by by Dusty Springfield
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Ghostly House
You need language of ghosts
To communicate with spirits that impose on us.
You crave for the very food our ghosts need.
Come with the religion of yours to distract them.
For it pray and they will go away, for all eternity!
Your House is Haunted. Be so wary!
Even call the police, and they will never enter your home.
Your House is Haunted. It needs some policy to rid it of evil and despair.
You House needs some care. It requires the life to adjust. You must.
If ghosts are about then leave the house and complain.
Nobody listens except the Priest, and he is not around.
Go to the doctor, and feel doom in abundance. The ghosts do not win.
Good Luck!
poem by Naveed Akram
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Love Is Haunted
when i go to the haunted house
my love is there
but instead
the door was locked
like the ghost is here
but it's not there
the house has her
but i don't know where she is
i looked as many times as i can
then i saw an ghost girl and
she chased me just like in a horror movie
and there she was my love
but she was trapped.
thy found us and we were trying to hide thy
and we escape from the house and i will say this
that love has always been haunted even in a horrorify
house.
poem by Yoam Rafael Sanfielreyes
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Haunted
The yawn of an opening door,
the creak on the stairs
of someone unseen descending there.
They are the classic opening
to a ghostly tale of a haunted house
where spirits dwell down a leafy lonely lane.
Now that is in the movies or a paperback novel.
However, when we see a place that resembles that
a cold chill goes through us as if it is real.
In reality, haunted buildings
are just ordinary ones we see.
The ones you wouldn’t expect to be haunted at all.
23 July 2008
poem by David Harris
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All Hallows Even
Some people swore that the house was haunted
Rarely seen during bright sunlight
It was a case of a ghost that flaunted
Felines and weak constitutions given fright
Creaky doors and windows black
These gave the house old ailments and distrust
Inside floors wait, interior cracks
While the hinges, nails, fixtures red-rust
Dusk does play its fancy lace up under the rafters
Dark winds blowing and shadows lurk
Offering tricks of bleak disaster
The house cat-naps restless in the murk
Some People swore that the house was haunted
A fall winter's breeze did come to haunt
A frayed lace curtain was better the fact
Nothing was ever the same after that
The House with Nobody in It
Whenever I walk to Suffern along the Erie track
I go by a poor old farmhouse with its shingles broken and black.
I suppose I've passed it a hundred times, but I always stop for a minute
And look at the house, the tragic house, the house with nobody in it.
I never have seen a haunted house, but I hear there are such things;
That they hold the talk of spirits, their mirth and sorrowings.
I know this house isn't haunted, and I wish it were, I do;
For it wouldn't be so lonely if it had a ghost or two.
This house on the road to Suffern needs a dozen panes of glass,
And somebody ought to weed the walk and take a scythe to the grass.
It needs new paint and shingles, and the vines should be trimmed and tied;
But what it needs the most of all is some people living inside.
If I had a lot of money and all my debts were paid
I'd put a gang of men to work with brush and saw and spade.
I'd buy that place and fix it up the way it used to be
And I'd find some people who wanted a home and give it to them free.
Now, a new house standing empty, with staring window and door,
Looks idle, perhaps, and foolish, like a hat on its block in the store.
But there's nothing mournful about it; it cannot be sad and lone
For the lack of something within it that it has never known.
But a house that has done what a house should do,
a house that has sheltered life,
That has put its loving wooden arms around a man and his wife,
A house that has echoed a baby's laugh and held up his stumbling feet,
Is the saddest sight, when it's left alone, that ever your eyes could meet.
So whenever I go to Suffern along the Erie track
I never go by the empty house without stopping and looking back,
Yet it hurts me to look at the crumbling roof and the shutters fallen apart,
For I can't help thinking the poor old house is a house with a broken heart.
poem by Joyce Kilmer
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Time of My Life
Come back to those days
of tomorrowland
I had the time of my life
When you haunted me through
You took over my soul
I had the time of my life
With you
I got that feeling
Nothing can stop us now
Fighting for my life,
I had the time of my life
Cause I was with you
Wish you had noticed
before the dragons swarmed in
Separating us
forever and ever
The window closed, I'm haunted
By you, by the days of September
When I was haunted by a life
that no one remembers
A life, a dream, a memory
I lay and think at night
A life, a scream, a heart
that no one remembers
He died with me, the window
Closed on everything we had
And I wouldn't share
You have a way of forgetting
everything we had
All those people, happy people
without a care in the world
I had the time of my life
Screaming for your life
Buried in the sand that day,
I can't go back, I had the best time
With you
The window closed, I'm haunted
Living In A Haunted Heart
I stumbled in and I fell straight asleep in the chair
Swear I did
Woke with a start and I thought I saw you floating by
Swear I did
The fixtures and furnitures the same
As the second you walked out the door
But here in my head you put a ghost train
And I cant go round any more
And I hear the passengers scream
Im living in a haunted heart
And I tell myself its all a bad dream
Im living in a haunted heart
Too proud to beg you to come back
One more drink, the fairground fades to black
Every night
Days last for years til the dark, like a bear,
Puts his claws around my brain
Smack! bang on time, with your laugh, you walk in
Through the walls around my brain
The curtains and carpets are the same
As the day you dissolved in thin air
Now here I go queueing for the horror ride
Knowing I dont have the fare
And I hear the passengers scream
Im living in a haunted heart
And I tell myself its all a bad dream
Im living in a haunted heart
Too proud to beg you to come back
As the ghost train rattles round its track,
Every night
I cant exorcise you or cause you to reappear
But if you want to know what nothing looks like
Well just peel back my chest and take a look inside here
The fixtures and furnitures the same
As the second you walked out the door
But here in my head you put a ghost train
And I cant go round any more
And I hear the passengers scream
Im living in a haunted heart
And youre shaking me apart at the seams
Im living in a haunted heart
My reality is pushed past extremes
Im living in a haunted heart
And I tell myself its just a bad dream
Im living in a haunted heart
Too proud to beg you to come back
One more drink, the fairground fades to black.
song performed by by Xtc
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Edison Museum
The edison museum, not open to the public
Its haunted towers rise into the clouds above
Folks drive in from out of town
To gaze in amazement when they see it
Just outside the gate I look into the courtyard
Underneath the gathering thunderstorm
Through the iron bars, I see the black maria
Revolving slowly in its platform
In the topmost tower, the lights burn dim
A coiling filament glowing within
The edison museum, once a bustling factory
Today is but a darkened cobweb covered hive of industry
The tallest, widest and most famous haunted mansion in new jersey
Behind a wooden door, the voice of thomas alva
Recites a poem on a phonograph
Ghosts float up the stairs, like silent moving pictures
The loyal phantoms of his in house staff
A wondrous place it is, there can be no doubt
But no one ever goes in, and no one ever goes out
The edison museum, not open to the public
Its haunted towers rise into the clouds above it
The oldest, greatest and most famous haunted mansion in new jersey
song performed by by They Might Be Giants
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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What have i done
Im in a room with you and its eating me alive
I am in the darkness while you're in the light
I thought what we did would satisfy my itch
But all its done is make me feel like a selfless bitch
I fell for you and your traps and i cant take the guilt
I am feeling pain i have never felt
I dont know what im suppose to do
I cant just go on ignoring you
I cant run away from my fears
I am tired of holding back all these tears
I cant stand whats happening its making me inasne
You are the only thing on my brain
I dont know why but i cant conectrate on anything else
This is unlike anything ive ever felt
How do i defeat this overewhelming pain and terror
I cant stand to look at myself in my own mirror
I dont know how i am suppose to cope
I've tried talking but still no hope
I try escaping through music
everything im deeming useless
I feel like ive been used
I feel like ive been abused
I hate myself more then ever before
Its as if my lifeless body is left bleeding away on the floor
I write this with you in the same room sitting a few rows back
my hands are trembling and i feel like im having a heart attache
ahhhhhhhhhhhhhh i scream inside and im trying to claw my way out
but im stuck and theres now way out of this cold dark house
the house of fear and pain
the house where theres nothing but rain
the house in which ive resided for many years
the house in which is made by my tears
poem by Jean Pullman
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The Ghost
The yawning creak of the door
as ivy branches tap the windowpane,
dancing shadows from the candle
caught in a draught from beneath the door.
I sit in what is reputed to be a very haunted room
waiting to see a ghost no one has ever seen.
They’ve only heard the wailing
in the middle of the night.
Therefore, I’m sitting here
my imagination wanting to play tricks
on me as darkness falls.
I’ve come to help this lost wailing spirit
that seems bound to this room
and to help release it
into the heavenly light,
also to find its secret
why it is bound to this room.
The town clock chimes midnight.
I wait, but nothing happens.
Maybe the lost wailing spirit
has taken the night off.
A voice sounded from the gloom.
“Excuse me, are you still up? ”
I looked around
and there by the doorway
stood a tall dark figure there.
“Yes, how can I help you? ”
“Please put out the candle
as it is keeping me awake.”
“But this room is haunted
and I’m waiting to see the ghost.”
Then came, a hearty chuckle
from the dark figure.
“So they got you at as well.
Turn out the candle
and get good nights sleep.
There is no ghost here.
Who on earth told you that.
Whoever it was
just tell them Smiler told you so.”
The next morning
after one of the best sleeps,
I have ever had.
I told the proprietor who had invited me.
They laughed when I told them
that Smiler had told me so.
When they stopped laughing
they said. “Smiler is the ghost
we were telling you about.”
poem by David Harris
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The Old House
The candle flame flickers from a draft
on a dark and stormy night,
the floorboards creak with every step
as I move about the old house.
There is a chill in the air,
that seems to be everywhere,
and the clock’s tick sounds louder
as time passes hour to hour.
I hear the thunder rumble in the night
and see lightning illuminate the sky
and I stop and listen intently
to the yawns and groans that echo in my ears.
The old house’s settling graces
that are always heard in the quiet of the night.
My heart beats against my chest
as my imagination begins to fly.
I breath in the musty air within the room
where I am about to sleep.
Everywhere the shadows move
under the light of my flickering candle.
I know the old house is not haunted,
but my mind tells me other wise.
My imagination creates noises
where the dancing shadows fall.
I gaze about suspiciously
knowing that there is nothing there
as a branch outside taps my window
wanting to come in out of the storm.
The curtains move from a draft
as if something is sheltering behind them.
All of which make my mind
thinks of ghost stories I have been told.
In bed, I slip under the cover,
and then blow the candle out
as something gets on the bed
resting across my legs for the night.
My ears detect the slightest sound
in the blackness that surrounds me
and I am blind to everything
on this stormy moonless night.
The streaks of dawn break through the window
and the terrors of the night have fled.
I smile at my imagination
as I lay there with the cat upon the bed.
The old house is reputed to be haunted,
but take it from one who lives there
that the only ghosts are our imagination
and on dark and stormy nights it grows.
5 June 2010
poem by David Harris
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Tunnel Of Love
Fat man sitting on a little stool
Takes the money from my hand while his eyes take a walk all over you
Hands me the ticket smiles and whispers good luck
Cuddle up angel cuddle up my little dove
Well ride down baby into this tunnel of love
I can feel the soft silk of your blouse
And them soft thrills in our little fun house
Then the lights go out and its just the three of us
You me and all that stuff were so scared of
Gotta ride down baby into this tunnel of love
Theres a crazy mirror showing us both in 5-d
Im laughing at you youre laughing at me
Theres a room of shadows that gets so dark brother
Its easy for two people to lose each other in this tunnel of love
It ought to be easy ought to be simple enough
Man meets woman and they fall in love
But the house is haunted and the ride gets rough
And youve got to learn to live with what you cant rise above if you want to ride on down in through this tunnel of love
song performed by by Bruce Springsteen
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The House
For many years, the house
stood empty and forlorn.
The windows had been boarded
preventing the sunlight coming in.
No welcoming mat lay by the door;
laughter was a thing of the past
as spiders spun their webs
within the gloomy silence.
The house stood empty
abandoned by most living things
and there were those who said
spooky goings on went on
after night fell in there.
No one could prove it
because no one would stay there.
Only the fool hardy
would ever enter after dark.
The paintwork pealed
and the front door creaked
if someone dared to open it.
They say the house is haunted,
but no one knew
by what or who.
The house began to crumble
as each season came to pass.
The glory of its birth
lay somewhere in the past
and now the crumbling walls
would never reveal
any of the secrets that it knew.
Then a fire started
by a hand unseen
and the house finally died
within its own funeral pyre
15 March 2011
poem by David Harris
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Haunted By My Own
Haunted by my own.
Haunted by a bloodline...
My ancestors have sewn.
And I confess...
My obsession to do my best!
This wont leave me alone.
I feel I am here,
To make their voices known.
I can not neglect a moment of respect.
To be perceived as a disrespect.
I must protect and protest indignities!
Haunted by my own.
Haunted by a bloodline...
My ancestors have sewn.
And I confess...
The challenge to please them,
Leaves me restless to achieve.
To heights of a success...
That will have all believe I have succeeded.
And my ancestors can attest,
I have done them well!
Although my haunting will continue,
Since they and I are not quite through...
To convince with proof what I am here to do!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Haunted
(GillanGloverPaiceMorseAirey)
I hear the beating of your wings
And you're playing on my strings
In mysterious ways
You draw me in
To a love
Beyond all understanding
Beyond my reach
So far away
But it seems
Like only yesterday
I'm Haunted
Haunted
Is that what you wanted
All that's left
Is the ghost of your smile
It stays awhile
Then fades away
I hear your footsteps on the ground
Tempting me to turn around
It's just the echo
Of a disenchanted lover
Shuffling aimlessly
Homeward bound
To empty rooms
And picture frames
And Friends
Who can't recall our names
I'm Haunted
Haunted
Is that what you wanted
All that's left
Is the ghost of your smile
It stays awhile
Then fades away
song performed by by Deep Purple
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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House Of Jazz
(young - young)
Humdinger
Bell ringer
Got a nasty stinger
To slow you down
Mud slinger
Gold digger
Who point the finger
And do you down
Kickin and a fightin on a tv show
Lightin blindin in the middle of the road
Are you comin in
Are you comin in
I said come into the house of
Come into the house of
Come into the house of jazz
Come into the house of
Come into the house of
Come into the house of jazz, yes
Ball stripper
Big tipper
Got a slap n tickler
To make you growl
A spitin and bitin on a tv show
Tightenin frightenin givin out a load
Are you comin in
Are you comin in
I said come into the house of
Come into the house of
Come into the house of jazz
Come into the house of
Come into the house of
Come into the house of jazz
Are you comin in
Come on in
Are you comin in
Are you comin in
I said come into the house of
Come into the house of
Come into the house of jazz
Come into the house of
Come into the house of
Come into the house of jazz
Are you comin in
Are you comin in
I said into the house of jazz
Come into the house of
Come into the house of
Come into the house of jazz
The house of jazz
2000, j. albert & son, pty.
song performed by by AC-DC
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Here In My House
Here in my house.
My dreams are filled in the here and now.
Here in my house.
Things seem so estranged.
Life's closer to being changed.
Where I live there is a numbness.
There's an emptiness waiting to be undone.
Here in my house.
I need peace and solitude.
I want the happy interlude.
Where's the happiness?
Why the sappiness?
Here in my house.
I want a lover to feed me.
Come and take me to bed.
Save my room for my heart to be filled.
Here in my house.
Outside, life torments and plays with the wind.
You get caught up in the bum rush.
When love comes, it hurts too much.
You don't want to let go.
Here in my house.
Let's sweep away our cares.
Find a place to get our anger out.
Constructively, with every whimp of passion.
Love rules out your heart.
That what love does.
Here in my house.
You want it too much.
Here in my house.
poem by Raven Brent
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House Of The Heart
So many people live in the house of the heart
And all the people that lives in the house of the heart
Are very at the house of the heart
Because they don't live alone
The house of the heart is a very big house
With 10 bedrooms,1 kitchen, a dining room,1 large living room, and 5
Bathrooms
At the house of the heart everybody sleeps in their own bedroom
poem by Aldo Kraas
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