Travelling Ireland, you come to a town, There are rumors of michty odd things going on, In that house on the hill many people have died, And their ghosts come every night! Being invited you enter the place, It's a leap back in time to the earlier days, Nicht falls an you're feeling pretty much drunk, Is it witchcraft oder is it just punk? You're on the run - your brain is gone, On the privy the evil goes on, As you can feel, the story is real, You're in the haunted house of Sligo! You wake up that morning in Sligo and drown, In a big pile of bottles and cans all around, You sit up and wonder where everyone's gone, There is nothing that rings a bell! You start to look around the house for your friends, Mysterious traces of litter and cans, They all lead you back to the place you've come from, An your mouth feels dry like hell! You're on the run - you're brain is gone, On the privy the evil goes on, As you can feel, the story is real, You're in the haunted house of Sligo! Ohhh - you're in the haunted house of Sligo! Ohhh - another Buckfast makes your mind blow! Ohhh - wasted, cursed and somehow! Ohhh - you're in the haunted house of Sligo!