@migu music@

Haunting - The Pogues

Sit down on that stool hear the can't of a fool

And a strange tale I'll tell to ye

Of a time that I lived at the buff of a hill

Neath the burial chambers you see

One Saturday night I get up on my bike

For go to a dance in the town

I set off at seven to be there for eleven

No thought of the rain coming down

I pushed up the hill the rain started to spill

So for shelter I had to resort

Helter skelter I went as downhill I sped

To the trees at the old fairy fort

I pulled up my bike be a tree in the gripe

To find shelter out of the storm

The rain it came down

And like stones beat the ground

But it was grand to be dry in that storm

I was dreaming away about better days

When a voice it says dirty old night

I fell over me bike I got such a fright

When the ghostly voice bid me the night

I jumped up with a start

Gave the storm not a thought

As the hail beat a rhythm on me

And I stared at the tree

That had spoken to me

Not a body was there I could see

I trembled and shook the tree twisted and booked

As the wind got into a scream

And I grabed for me bike in that devil's owned night

Expecting to wake from a dream

The voice I had heard not another word said

As the hair on the head stood on me

And I said an Our Father

As I peddled much faster

Away from that ghost haunted tree

For weeks and weeks after

With nerves a disaster

Nowhere near that road would I go

And from dusk through the night

I would shake with the fright

Of the tree that had haunted me so

Now whenever I go to a dance in the town

I make sure not to stop on the way

To be there for eleven

I still leave at seven

But I go be a different way