In a little house upon a hill,
Lives a friendly lonely ghost,
By himself, without a friend,
He's the guest and he's the host.
He has no one to breakfast with,
No one to share a lunch,
But then he's not a hungry ghost,
He never has to eat his brunch.
If only with someone he could talk,
With someone he could befriend,
He doesn't know how long it'll be,
loneliness will end.