Come visit us at Swanwick House
where everybody is dead.
Lady Marceline will greet you
in her flowing dress of deep red.
You'll find she has a most charming smile
if you can break through her reserve.
She passed away two hundred years ago
but as you can see, she is well preserved.
Come join us at our table.
Please don't mind that we are dead.
We put evaporated milk in our tea
and spread blackberry jam on stale bread.
Come sit down and feast with us
and join us in conversation.
We think you will enjoy our stories.
They span hundreds of generations.
We are quite mirthful at Swanwick House
even though we are all dead.
Uncle Leopold makes us all laugh
every time he removes his head.
Ghosts fly in and out of our windows.
They frolic each night with the bats.
in bed we always feel the kneading
of the paws of all our deceased cats.
We don't belong to the world of the living,
but don't think of ourselves in the past tense.
Our closets are full of skeletons,
and I mean that in a literal sense.
We offer you shelter and company.
We bid you come in out of the rain.
We will welcome you into our family.
We invite you to come in and remain. - Jeff Barnes
