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Ghost of Orphan James
Buzzard
Popularity ยท Low
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๐ฌ๐ง English ยท Original
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Lyrics
Original
Translation
Bilingual
The master of the orphanage
Was stealing money meant for bread
Abigail would mend her dress
As little James would make a fist
And tie the laces of his shoes
A chill creeping through the room
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One night the rusted furnace broke
The screaming hallways filled with smoke
Cowardly the master fled
The ceilings fell, the fires fed
Consuming Luke, Lynette, and all
The orphan souls like burning dolls
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For seven nights the master woke
To children laughing, skipping rope
In a shroud of hellish flames
Stood the ghost of orphan James
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In the playground hung the master
The children's wrath burns forever
To haunt the land and drag us damned
Down to hell with their cold hands
For we have stolen from the young
Cursed, we cough with blackened lungs
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