They say that the ghost
Of Halifax Will
Spends all of his days
On your windowsill.

But when it gets dark,
He gets out of bed;
He looks here and there
To find a new head.

The head he has now
Has eyes that are crossed;
His snaggle-toothed grin
Shows teeth that he’s lost.

His hair is all spiked,
And dyed a bright red.
To have ears like his,
You’d be better dead!

He needs a new face,
‘Cause his has turned green.
It’s too ugly now
To use Halloween.

He’ll take your whole head,
Including your face,
And when he takes yours,
He’ll leave his in place.

I’ve just come to warn
Of what he might do;
I guess I’m too late —
He’s already got you!