Sitting up, late at night I tiptoe through the darkness Cold as hell, black as spades Aware of my immediate surrounding In my place I escape up into my hideout Hiding from everyone My friends all say, "Dave you're mental anyway" hey! Drift into a deeper state I stalk the cobwebbed stairways Dirt grits between my feet The stair creaks, I precariously sneak Hypnosis guides my hand I slipside through the walkways Sit in granny's rockin' chair Memories are whirling by, yeah Reminisce in the attic Lucretia waits impatiently Cobwebs make me squint The cobra so eloquently glints Moonbeams surge through the sky The crystal ball's energized Surely that like the cat waiting Lucretia rocks away