A candle burns by an old man's chair

Burns on and on, but there's no one there

The light that comes from the old man's home

They say

Started when he passed away

Sits right there on the old man's desk

Pass days and weeks, hasn't burned out yet

That candle fire by the dead man's chair

So strange

Wonder how it burns that way

Oh, what a cursed and blessed sight

Possessed, enchanted phantom light

It shines so small and it burns so bright

And strange

Don't know how it burns that way

That candle fire by the dead man's chair

They say

Ever since he passed away