When the Ghosts Come Around
When Donkey Lady screams in the cold, dark field,
And the black ice is hard on the ground,
And there's nobody else in the world but me,
That's when the ghosts come around.
I call them ghosts, but I don't know why,
I'm not really sure what they are,
The pound on the roof and rattle the locks,
And drink from my whiskey jar.
When the dead limbs rake at the bleached full moon,
And the leaves rattle over the ground,
And the hound dogs hide 'neath the front porch steps,
That's when the ghost come around.