The stairs are dark
and gloomy, a chill permeates the place
Little light filters through the yellowing velvet curtain
There's a creak with every step, causing the room to awaken
Shadows sigh in the corner, ghosts of those forsaken
A silent calming retreat
Or a place of mystery and lore
But what will be found next
Behind the attic door
Behind every little thing lies a certain fear
Witches, monsters and spirits wait to appear when someone's near
Even the slightest noise is enough of a cause to run
Whispers and footsteps plague mind when really there are none
A silent ...
Flying down the stairs, swinging the door open wide
Into noise and ligh, these frightened people collide
Opening the attic door, the stairs are a beckon to come
The calm, solitary atmosphere opens its arms to some
Here is a place to think, no distractions at all
To people looking for this, the room ... seems to call
A silent ...
