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That old manor house is a-grieving, as it slowly falls apart,
Abandoned and neglected, it’s a house with a broken heart.

It’s pretty sad and lonely, no one’s living there,
The tragic place is dying, ’cause people just don’t care.

There’s a tear-stained face upon it, abused in its old age,
That rotted roof’s a-sagging, beneath a face of rage.

With some window panes broken, and the door falling off,
Inside it’s so drafty, you can almost hear it cough.

The manor house is haunted, as it creaks and groans at night,
When the wind howls through the windows, it’s a mournful sight

‘Tis an idle house that’s empty, where echoes bound around,
When you talk or holler, it brings a spooky sound.

Those broken shutters rattle, when stormy breezes blow,
A leaky roof drips water, like teardrops down below.

The old plank floor’s a-warping, with side-walls full of holes,
There are cats in the cellar, so the story goes.

It’s a poor, old house that’s lonesome, with all the old folks gone,
A-resting there forever, on a hilltop on the farm.

That old manor house is dying, it’s been through a lot,
May these words bring comfort, to the house with a broken heart.
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By Carroll Buffum Sr. – Adapted by Dave Prokop


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