His schedule is synchronized,
With cycles of the moon,
A piano that forever plays,
The Addams family tune.
Pale girls adorn his banisters,
At length they hang around,
Wearing their high stiletto heels,
And vintage velvet gowns.
He tells everyone his best friend’s,
A poet down the way,
The only one who understands,
Every last word he says.
They made up a secret language,
Deep in their conveying,
Although if asked they will admit,
They know not what they’re saying.
And his residence of choice is,
All he ever wanted,
To live in a creepy mansion,
Well known to be haunted.
Kept at a chilly 65,
This curmudgeonly host,
Does his best to keep guests out,
And accommodate the ghosts.
But there is one room in the house,
No one knows the function,
Could it be some sort of dojo?
Or maybe it’s a dungeon!
Some swear that it’s a slaughterhouse,
And he’s a cannibal,
Who sucks out corpse’s blood for youth,
And other animals.
Or maybe a shrine to himself,
To blissfully revel,
Or maybe where he’ll sacrifice,
Young girls to the devil.
But if some evil does lurk there,
He’ll make no exception,
And whether for his privacy,
Or for your protection.
But I think that’s its just a ruse,
Surely we’ll discover,
Him in there hugging teddy bears,
And Skyping with his mother.