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The Anvil Ghost


by Bert Billingham

They say there’s a ghost in the Anvil Pub
And it dwells in the toilets no less;
It appears late at night and gives you a fright
whilst you are adjusting your dress.

They say the ghost was a Robber;
A highwayman known as Ben Humphrey,
On the toilet he sat – but the varnish was wet,
There he died - he could not get his bum free.

It’s just what I’ve heard, it may sound absurd,
But should it be true, my friend,
I can only observe, he richly deserved
To come to a sticky end!

But think – if you’re out on the toilet
And you’re sat on the seat nice and comfy,
You may be sat on that ghostly lap
Of the highwayman known as Ben Humphrey.

Old Ben shouldn’t be haunting toilets:
He should be at rest in his grave -
Not sneaking a peek at folks having a leak,
That’s no way for a ghost to behave!

But there can’t be a ghost in the toilets:
It would haunt somewhere warmer I swear,
Much better by far if it haunted the bar,
There’s all sorts of spirits in there!

So if you’re alone in the toilets,
And with fear to the seat you are pinned,
Because you’ve heard moaning,
It’s not old Ben groaning,
It’s only the passing of wind!

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