Let's fill our glasses to the brim
And cross our legs and when the light is dim
Clink them together in a toast.
To Annabelle and The Joker
And queer beings with feet turned over
Living in the world of ghosts.
Where the creak of a door resembles death
Where every sound results in the holding of breath
Where bangles lift themselves and dance the night.
Where seeing one person means there are two
Where the tales of haunted houses are always true
Where stormy nights give way to fright.
Where lost souls meet and dine
And whisper plans over glasses of wine
And a scary party they host.
Where they talk about how they miss life
Which ended with the throat grazed by a knife
And they got stuck in the world of ghosts.