Written under his nom de plume, B.S. Eliot:"Ghost Andy"He looked at me, Wringing his hands, White as a ghostAnd asked meWhat are you going To tell them?And I told himI'm going out there To tell the truth.
"Ghost Andy"He looked at me, Wringing his hands, White as a ghostAnd asked meWhat are you going To tell them?And I told himI'm going out there To tell the truth.
He looked at me, Wringing his hands, White as a ghost
And asked meWhat are you going To tell them?
And I told himI'm going out there To tell the truth.
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