the volatile ghost
She slithers through the snow like a snake but she's still.
And she comes floating through the window without touching the sill.
She prefers to make an entrance without using the door,
And she'll be standing on your bed before she crosses the floor.
She's a will-o'-the-wisp as she's swinging her hips,
Her breath is like a worm spinning silk from her lips...
And tonight, spook lights will be seen from your room
And you and her and Jack and I are swimming in gloom.