This Ghoulish Throng

Restriction: No instruments other than your voice. Also, punch Greg in the head, next chance you get.

Looking to the left, looking to the right
How are there shadows here without a speck of light?
They’ve been crawling ’round the room for the whole of the night
Never thought I’d go crazy, but hey, I just might

Trying to clear my head, trying to close my eyes
Still seeing shadows to my frustrated surprise
Maybe it’s my mind, playing tricks that I despise
But these things are much too vivid, I don’t think that quite applies

I wish I could recall just what I’ve done wrong
To be bothered by the spirits of this ghoulish throng
Phantoms, please and thank you, say your susurrous so-longs
And leave me to my sleep, away from all your taunting songs

Knock Knock

Seven in the morning, delirious
Heard a knocking on the door, mysterious
So I yelled “Come in!” and “Are you there?”
And finally “Is this guy serious?”
So I got up and checked behind the door myself
No one there, but I heard a knocking by the shelf
Then another in the corner, on my desk; I thought
“Whatever this thing is, I hope it’s not grotesque!”
Heard a couple more knocks beside my Lennon poster
Darted into the kitchen, knocking by the toaster
Ran towards the living room in an attempt to flee
Heard nothing but knocking coming from the TV
I ran into the bathroom, knocks in the shower
Now I knew that I’d been up for like fifty hours
But that doesn’t explain why when I ran to the den
I heard the overwhelming knocking of a thousand men

What could I do? I hopped into bed
Hoping that I’d hear the music in my dreams instead
But as soon as I’d closed my leaded eyelids
A jet black voice emerged, it said:
“What do I gotta do to get your attention?
Don’t you ever do this to me again!
It is truly beyond my comprehension
That you didn’t get to bed when I knocked at ten!”