In my house,
There are people all around.
But only I can see them.
My angel-friend,
He talks to me,
Makes me smile and warm.
I know I must not sleep among them,
For death awaits.
My ghosts, they will me to come to them,
To join them all again.
They will not sleep,
Untill poppies grow over
Number 13 on my street.
