You clean out your junk-drawer, you mop up some bloodnWhile the first of the new creatures rises from the mudnCursing the moment that saw him draw breathnThe ghost on your doorstep is starving to deathnnYou spray down the windows, you wipe them all cleannAnd you douse your old clothing with fresh gasolinenAnd the ghost on your doorstep is soaked wet with rainnAnd he clutches his stomach and howls at the painnnAnd you can stay busy all daynHe’s never going awaynnSo let all the lights blaze, keep your heart lightnPlay really loud music all hours of the nightnAnd when you set the table, set it for twonThe ghost on your doorstep has to eat, same as younSame as you