The Corfe Castle ghost is a subtle ghost,
is a victim of King John;
is a ghost of the silent hours
when the tourists have all gone.
The Corfe Castle ghost was a French Knight,
is a ghost of centuries past;
is an echo of royal ruthlessness
whose shadow is still cast.
The Corfe Castle ghost is a ghost of trauma,
is a soul in darkness trapped
in the dungeon beneath this ruined tower
where in anguish he's still wrapped.
Upon gazing through an arrow slit
I could see the spiral stair
down which he made his final journey -
ouch...it gave me such a scare!
Then just for an instant he became I -
oh grim hopeless and despair
of knowing I'd never once more see the sun
nor breathe again God's clean air.
No, instead I survived on stagnant urine
and the depths of degradation plumbed
along with twenty-one fellow countrymen,
until one-by-one we succumbed
to starvation's savage desperation
that turned us cannibalistic...
but at the end I believed I was back in France,
enjoying fine wine and a picnic.