Faces staring from paintings on walls
Footsteps walking in faraway halls
Do not worry the occupants
They're simply something that came with the mansion
Voices speaking by blocked up coalfires
An army of butlers, footmen and esquires
Keep the place occupied
Free from the voices of dissent from decades gone by
chorus;
No Santa Clauses
Will come down the chimney this year
Only the spirits of the children who died up there
Sweeping them so many years ago.
Faces staring from paintings on walls
Footsteps walking through faraway halls
Do not worry the tenants, they 're relatives
Keeping an eye on what once was their own but
Scruffy children in rough looking clothes
Go unrecognised, each door slams closed
No mother encourages children to believe in
Poltergeists in their own home....