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Nigel Stonier
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English Ghosts
English ghosts are howling down the midnight
English ghosts are reaching out their hands
English ghosts are claiming all our silence
All that green and not so pleasant land
Rustling the sorrow and the bindweed
Rattling Georgian doors and window panes
English ghosts are emailing St Agnes
Please return my conscience and your chains
Tonight I wish a lot, but what I wish the most
Is that this bed was big enough and free from English ghosts
Tonight I feel the pull, the pillar and the post
And the shiver in your eye must be the kiss of English ghosts
English ghosts are talking to my fingers
English ghosts are listening to your skin
Ready when the flame begins to flicker
Waiting when the ice becomes too thin
Something shadowed watched us climb the staircase
You were sure a hand was on your sleeve
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Now I can wipe these bloodstains from the sheets, babe
But I can't get these English ghosts to leave
Tonight I wish a lot, but what I wish the most
Is that this bed was big enough and free from English ghosts
Tonight I feel the pull, the pillar and the post
And the shiver in your eye must be the kiss of English ghosts
Hanging on to my thoughts and whispers
Second guessing your sighs
Though we see through them
They'll be back again
Even when that rite's been exorcised
Tonight I wish a lot, but what I wish the most
Is that this bed was big enough and free from English ghosts
Tonight I raise a glass and I propose a toast
To tangled ends and absent friends and all those English ghosts
All those English ghosts
All those English ghosts
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