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