#rather haunted

A friend sent me the lyrics to this strange little song from the late 60s. I can’t help but wonder if Ian Tyson, the songwriter, had Shirley Jackson in mind - it would have been written shortly after her death. Has anyone heard it? There are no recordings online and the album is out of print.

All the halls are haunted At the National Hotel Snoring and screaming Down the halls the demons dwell. Every night the knocking Come a-knocking at my door Calling out for Shirley. She don't live here anymore.

The radiator rumbles She's trying to get away From the cockroach in the corner Who likes living this-a-way?

And the smell that keeps rising From down in the green dining room Makes me think of the waitress Who's got me baying and howling at the moon.

The carpet lives on ketchup And the lightbulbs live on flies And the wallpaper pattern lives on anything That it can hypnotize.