Every night i leave the same house
Always the police all around
But they don't see me leave the grounds
'cause they're too busy with what's found
A chair, and there
A girl with a blank stare
A ringing telephone
She's muttering alone
I don't believe in ghosts
Stepped into the light
To visit from another time
Somehow i got trapped on this side
And now i cannot say goodbye
To the chair where the girl with the black hair
Answers the telephone
And mutters to someone
I don't believe in ghosts
Somewhere that house is full of sounds of laughter
Paper dolls and cups of tea
Somehow i have to get there
One more chance to see my beautiful marie
It was an awful trick
And it isn't fair
That life was intended for me
Somehow i have to get there
One more chance to tell her how i feel