This morning I woke up with this verse in my head.
It's always creeped me out.
Last night upon the stair,
I met a man who wasn't there.
He wasn't there again today,
Oh how I wish he'd go away.
And then this man's flat-faced, non-featured grin shuddered through my half-asleep mind.
We've got local elections on Thursday and obviously there's no way in Hell, but I do like the way my subconscious just likes to keep me on the left road.
Old-Nick
Pro
Apparently some wag in the house of commons wrote a version of that having a pop at Mr Brooon.
"Yesterday upon the stair,
I met a man that wasn't Blair.
He wasn't Blair again today,
I wonder when he'll go away"