Downstairs in the unused basement Those ancient timbers creak and moan Cold seeps in through the moldering casement And that empty space is dry as bone.
In unused corners the cobweb gathers Dust gets thicker every year Under the bare bulb the light scatters Every day brings winter near.
On an old shelf stands a rusty pail Used to hold milks and creams It's empty now, used and frail Cracked and worn it no longer gleams.
Once the children frolicked in the shadows But their unwelcome footsteps no longer fall All that's left are boarded up windows And the spiders rule over all.
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