Despair And Die. The Ghosts

I Long To Hear The Story Of Your Life, Which Must Take The Ear Strangely.

There's No More Faith In Thee Than In A Stewed Prune.

Men Should Be What They Seem; Or Those That Be Not, Would They Might Seem None!.

I Will Be Correspondent To Command, And Do My Spiriting Gently.

For God's Sake, Let Us Sit Upon The Ground, And Tell Sad Stories Of The Death Of Kings... All Murdered; For Within The Hollow Crown That Rounds The Mortal Temples Of A King, Keeps Death His Court... And With A Little Pin Bores Through His Castle Wall, And Farewell King!