This empty room
Is full of ghosts
Slurring words and wedding toasts
Dancing in the frail moonlight
Of one more bump within the night
And bedsheets are the masquerade
For this loveless promenade
Restless souls alone in crowds
Ectoplasmic brain storm clouds
Projections in an astral plane
Where life is but a spectral feign
Of Casper's friendliest disguise
To drown our haunting banshee cries
How dead inside we really feel
Another sip may soon reveal