I can see hill tops distant far
From my casement window,
I can see the road and horses
And the orchard just below.
When I was just a baby,
My mum often lifted me,
Told me of the beautiful things
She wanted me to see.
A soft song in my ear she sweetly sang,
Gently rocking me in her folded arms.
I loved that old casement window,
It seemed magically charmed.
As I grew up I could climb up myself,
Stand on the widow seat - A view from top shelf,
I watched the gardeners trim and tidy,
All round my window that lush climbing ivy.
I would see the school bus come to the gate,
The big kids hopped off, I rushed to the gate,
Down the stairs helter skelter,
Glancing briefly at the gold chandelier.
One winter's day, my life seemed to stop,
I was still in my room, but the door was locked,
I climbed as I could to the casement window,
The green leaves all gone, the orchard choked by snow.
I waved to the kids having a snow fight,
How I wanted to join them in this delight,
But fate had trapped me in this room,
It seems as though I was facing a life of gloom.
Being one with a positive attitude,
My horizons opened in another latitude,
I invented some fun things I could do,
While the other kids went off to the zoo.
I found I could make a painting swing,
Now - that is an amazing thing,
So as the maid walked past the hall,
I made the painting swing, I heard her fall,
She broke her hip with that crunching thud,
Rolled down the stairs her dress covered in blood.
I'm not sure if she healed from her broken hip,
She never came back, she simply jumped ship.
I looked out the window on Saturday,
Two young lovers frolicked and played,
Right under my window, hidden they thought,
I was so jealous because my life seemed naught.
Now this next bit you may not believe,
But a bolt of lightning parted those leaves.
They were scorched beyond recognition,
Like fuel burnt by a spark of ignition.
Some years later, at the window again,
I looked out and felt dreadful pain,
Six men in black suits stood ever so tall,
My mum's coffin resting on shoulders all,
How could she leave and not say goodbye?
Why oh why, I flopped down and cried.
I reached out to her, fingers on pane,
Dear mother, I repeated again and again.
Last night she sang and danced ‘til late,
Now escorted out through the large front gate.
Now in the house, it was just Dad and me,
But I saw something I wasn't supposed to see,
A pretty young women dressed so well,
She smiled and danced weaving her spell.
Mum had been buried just one day,
I wondered if this woman had come to stay.
I was jealous, still stuck in this room,
Alone, not even one child from my womb.
That night I simply just could not sleep,
So silently down the stairs I did creep
I painted the gold chandelier crimson red,
The paint seemed to flow down from under my bed.
Next morning you should have seen the tantrum
Dad and that women went into a spin.
They couldn't wait to get out the door,
My paint still raining down on the floor.
Later on that very same day,
A flash car parked by the dray.
He climbed out to erect a sign,
For Sale – but this home is mine!
Just as his mallet fully he raised,
One of my trees seemed rather crazed,
Dropping a branch onto that BMW
It was screwed up to look just like a VW.
The man ran off mighty quick,
I hurried him along by throwing a brick.
Now - wow - alone at last
I can have fun, like in the past,
Making doors slam and blowing a breeze,
Even causing the spiders to freeze.
Oh no! Next morning I heard,
The roar of a diesel machine absurd,
This yellow thing with blade raised high,
Dad and this man were rushing nigh.
Then the ground gaped like a mouth,
Swallowing them up they headed south.
They fell into this molten stream,
The last thing I heard was their eternal scream.
I'm the mad ghost of Molly Malone,
Now I am left totally alone.
At the tender age of just four
Dad hid my charred bones under this floor.
If you see that large for sale sign,
And the old house smothered with Ivy vine,
Drive right past, don't come in the door,
This house is haunted for ever more.
