A house stands upon a shady hill,
Has memories of its own.
It can tell you stories to give you chills,
The truth never to be known.
The little girl that roams the halls,
Had died by a bad man's hands.
He wrapped his hands around her throat,
Until she couldn't stand.
The teenaged boy had blown a hole,
Through his head with daddy's gun.
And when the neighbours flocked his home,
They found his dear old mum.
Mummy dearest was in the cellar,
Naked, tied up and starved.
Because daddy wasn't the kindest fella,
And couldn't smile unless he harmed.
These saddest of souls need your help.
They quietly cry out your name.
Go the house and listen to their welps,
Of sadness, heartbreak and pain.
When you enter you will feel their need.
Will you answer their prayers?
Everybody ends the same way,
Now it's your turn to climb the stairs.