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A ghost story, Rabbie Burns. What a guy.



Twas a dark and dismal night,

Let me set the scene.

I still think it a dream, I had just turned eighteen.



We were sitting in the pub, the place it was the hub

For all young alcoholics I was being welcomed to the club.



We had been in a couple of hours when the mood began to sour,

Then someone set a task

That filled me up with power.



Let us visit Torrance House,

Let"'"s give this '"'doo'"' a rouse.



Unless you are a big girls blouse?



Now Torrance House was supposed to be a haunted,

It was said that visitors where much unwanted,

But we were all so drunk and quite undaunted.



It had stood a hundred years

But now empty,

Full of fears.

Rumours were the Devil would appear.

But we were young and bold,

Never felt the cold.

So onward ever onward there was a story to unfold.



Torrance House was large, larger than the most.

It was an old decrepit spook but did it have a host?

Because of all our beer

We did not have much fear,

Therefore we approached feeling nothing but good cheer.



Our consumption had been greed

Nothing more than feed,

For youthful drunken need.



Rumours had always been around

Talk of bats and killer hounds,

Pushed over headstones, unconsecrated ground.



Ravens host the trees, they do what Ravens please,

After all they are left, left as right trustees.



There were many there that night

That I feared would take to flight.

Afraid of all that dark

The supernatural rite.



Whistling wind was high

As by by and by

We neared the House,

The wind began to sigh.



We made our way towards the House,

I think our tongues were tied,

Here at last we stood,

Then suddenly a divide

All my friends they bolted

You should have seen their stride.



So they bid adieu

What was I to do?



I stared at the front door

It opened I went through,

It felt like deja  vous.



(it had opened very gently

All be it quite intently,

Incidentally.

I was scared)



I was in this House

You should have heard me sigh,

I thought '"'I have no will

What if perhaps I die?'"'



I walked towards the stairs

On the wall a plaque.

I stopped and had a stare.



'"'hokery pokery gibberish ,

Enjoy your sleep with affection

Never know it"'"s day or night

Beware a close inspection'"'



Time it seemed real funny

I had always thought it right

But that particular evening

It felt a strange invite..



An old clock it did chime

A sound heard a million times

My foot on the first step

I steal myself to climb.



Then the front door slammed!



My back shivers they took off!



I tried to glance right back

The old heart under attack,

My Courage looking for her bags to pack.



It was a living nightmare

My nerves should be abolished,

Why did I enter doom and gloom

This House should be demolished.



I could smell a stale perfume

A witches brew indeed,

An all but to familiar stench  

I wore it"'"s close costume.



The whistling wind made the windows have a right carry on,

The curtains old and heavy were already well withdrawn.



I thought of honest people

Who hold their lapels high,

They would surely turn,

Run then say goodbye.



Up to the first floor

At execution speed,

The corridor was long and dark

It was scary to proceed.

Then I heard the rain,  

I was sick of that dark night.

Into my jeans pocket

A Zippo I did find  

Oh it  would ease my plight.



I crept  along,

That lighter was a dancing

All the time enhancing

Then I spied a portrait….

That suddenly stopped

My advancing.



I could not believe what I seen

My face looked back at me,

I could not disagree.

The eyes they held a plea.



Help me…



I lifted the picture down

The wind became a wild Banshee.



Doors began to slam

The rafters they did howl,

I knew the very Devil himself

Would soon be on the prowl.



The House was moaning then a groaning

It wanted me to stay,

I could smell its dead bouquet

But I was on my way,

Down the stairs a picture underneath my arm

Praying for no harm

The front door was closed fast

Much to my alarm!



Then the door sprung open

'"'what the bloody hell'"'

There he stood my mate

Swaying like a bell.



Grabbing his arm

I turned him and we ran,

Ran and ran…



We did not stop for nothing,

The ravens hurled abuse

This could be the front page news

If it wasn"'"t for the booze.



I woke up crap but still alive

The picture on the floor.

What the hell was going on

The facts I must explore.



My head it had a pain

The truth it must decline

Most times when I wake up

I have a road side sign.



So I check the truth

How low have I sank

I look in to the frame

Then know it was a prank.



The drink had gone and got to me,

My head first then my liver,

All that I had stared upon

Was a dusty musty mirror.



I thought of Rabbie Burns

And awe his brilliant tales,

He was not a piss artist

That supped upon the ales.



But he was quite a different man

A talent beyond means

He could tell a tale or twa

And set it in your scene.



Was it really my big night?

Or was it just some banter,

Or did I really meet the same

That frightened Tam o Shanter.



The only thing that I must beg

Two tales that must divorce,

They are both about the devil

But mine it has no horse.



So when this Sunday comes

I will be quite as a mouse,

For I know where the Devil lives

He lives in Torrance House.