(Warning.)

One two, one two three four.

One two, one two three four.

Knocks upon my door.

Why they were there,

who knows what for.

Line stone around, and granted to.

The sprits need the pull,

in order to contact you.

Cold they are,

you feel their chill,

where they stand still.

They speak,

and you can’t get it all,

for they speak a different level is all.

Weegy boards are a no,

because its telling them you want to play a game.

Its known to be a scary thing,

So you can’t blame them you see.

Ring, ring,

They call you at home.

We want you to know were here,

And that we still care.

Love ones past,

Letting you know they are o.k.

If they hate in life,

They can let go of it in death.

It’s a choice,

It picks their fate.

Going on,

Are haunting a place,

Is fate.

Sometimes it takes,

inter action for them to know,

they are stuck in a rerun event.

Rerun events,

are ones that never had control.

Sometimes sticking to what they know.

Seeing out side the box,

Sometimes takes a few knocks.

One two, one two three four.

One two, one two three four.

See the meaning,

and order of events.

Get the feeling,

so you get the meaning so far.

Two, four, two, four.

The sprits knocking at my door,

The ones that I just can’t ask nor.

We talk with air, trapped to make a noise,

So how do they talk.

We know not how.