There's a house at the top of the hill. Haunted, of course.It doesn't want to kill, or even chill. Benevolent, of course. It used to be a mill. Abandoned, of course. They made twill. Aeons ago, of course. Now the house sits lonely and old. Awaiting its new masters. It's earned a reputation, ill-begotten. The house, alive, just wants company. It remembers, you see, it's former glory. Will it ever be loved again?