The Spectres of Saturday Night

There’s a gang of grisly ghosts,
They really are a fright,
They rise from the dark every week,
To ruin Saturday night,

Do you want to go to the pub?
Sit down and have a pint?
They’ll fill your glass with bright green slime,
To ruin Saturday night,

Do you want to go the club?
Dance under the coloured lights?
They’ll put skeletons on the dance floor,
To ruin Saturday night,

There’s a gang of grisly ghosts,
They really are a fright,
They rise from the dark every week,
To ruin Saturday night.


If you liked this poem, don’t forget to check out my books, or you can buy me a coffee on Ko-Fi!

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