For Ghosts are dry, and my thirst was high, my throat like a chalky cavern.
I didn't have much, only four of cold Scotch, which is good to moisten chalk.
The night was fine, it was twelve twenty-nine, so I thought I might just as well walk.
But when I entered Trafalgar Square, I heard a mysterious sound;
There was not even a Bobby in sight as I stole a glance around;
But seated on NELSON's lions four, and perched on the neighbouring "posteses,"
I saw, as we said in our Nursery Rhyme, a dozen or so of "Ghosteses"!
Chorus.
Some of the Ghosts were short, some of the Ghosts were tall,
Some of them had most preposterous noddles, and some of them none at all,