The Ghost On The B666

I was driving down that minor road along my delivery route,
A hunched up brown bakers coat, that is my business suit,
I saw a girl pale faced and sad, holding a small bouquet,
I pulled up at the roadside and asked “are you okay?”

She said “I’ve waited for my love all night and now it’s nearly dawn,
I know he would not stand me up, oh where could he have gone?”
“I think it’s time I took you home”, well that was my advice,
She climbed into the passenger seat and the cab felt cold as ice.

Gave an address on the Brick Kiln road and I turned the Transit round,
Her shoulders heaved with sobbing but she didn’t make a sound,
I squinted at the house numbers in in the headlight glare,
And as I glanced back round at her, she was no longer there.

The windows were all misted up, my heart was filled with dread,
But I still had a job to do, ‘cos the van was filled with bread,
I got back to the depot, told the foreman what I’d done,
He chewed his lip and his skin turned white and he whispered quietly “Son…..”

“Thats one teen queen you shouldn’t have seen, she should be in heaven,
Because I know she waits for me since 1957,
I was on my way to meet her, slicked up and looking fine,
She was hit by a red double deck one of the Midland line.

So if you’re ever on the morning run, look out and beware,
Put that foot right to the floor if you see the phantom there,
When it’s early in the morning, driving through the sticks,
Leave that spectre on the kerb, the ghost on the six-six-six.

The ghost on the B six-six-six