There’s a ghost called Sam inside my house,
he’s silent as a tiny mouse,
because he’s scared of everything,
from paper darts to insect wings.

He’s scared of spiders, scared of cats,
he’s scared of people wearing hats.
He scared of toast, and scared of tea,
and Sam is even scared of me.

It doesn’t do poor Sam much good,
‘cause he can’t do the things ghosts should,
like rattle chains, and walk through doors,
and squeak the boards on wooden floors,
or jump ‘round corners yelling, “Boo!”,
or scare someone ‘till they turn blue.

I thought I’d help him out one night,
and teach him how to give a fright,
but I must have been a bit too scary,
my costume was quite big and hairy.
I jumped at Sam and yelled “Your dead!”
and Sam the ghost just disappeared,
in a puff of black and gray…

…now Sam the ghost has gone away.