Barber Chop Quartet

That long empty shop where they used to cut hair Where all that remains is an old barber’s chair The creak of the hinges might give you a scare Should you care to recall what they say occurred there The power’s been cut which he didn’t know The candle he found gave a dull feeble glow There must be a draught for a sound from below Sounded so much like a voice saying Go The keys he’d picked up from the real estate feller Did not include one that would unlock the cellar So just for the hell of it he turned the handle The draught spoke again and it blew out the candle Outside a car passed the open front door It’s lights caused a glint on the dust covered floor In the dust was a key and he got quite a shock When the power came on and the key’s in the lock The front door slammed shut which at least stopped the draught But the cellar door opened… and somebody laughed So with his pulse racing he made his way down Was he mad to open in Olde London Town He glared at the sight of four wide open freezers Each packed with the remnants of dismembered geezers Were his friends having a Halloween laugh Or was that them chopped up in that old tin bath Those stories weren't true but made up for a lark And yet he still froze when the whole place went dark There’s no way that this shop was once Sweeny Todd’s But a voice in the dark chuckled… ‘What are the odds?’