Moths
Moths
In the catacombs of St Andrew’s church
In the grounds of Blickling Hall
You’ll find a room crammed full of coffins
Standing upright and looking tall
The caskets covered quite elaborately
With heavy fabrics they were displayed
Until the moths flew by on velvet wings
And the cloths rotted away
Candles flicker softly
The shadows on the walls
Moths dance silently
And the ghosts from the coffins crawl
Rumour has it that a wicked man
Was buried many years ago
He was hated by the local people
it was time for him to go
Intoxicated on a rainy night
The doctor came to see him right
But the medic did declare him dead
and so they buried him alive
The lights went out
And the bugs came out
And he banged against his tomb
The coffin swayed
And the moth brigade
Took flight as the casket moved
And every day
the caretaker came
He’d stand it upright again
As the years went by
He’d repeat his plight
Over and over again
So the ghost within the upright coffin
To this day he haunts us still
In the moonlight you can hear him calling
his screams so loud and shrill
And the moths upon their powdered wings
Dance through the leaded window pane
Floating out towards the moonlit night
And down the long and winding lane
Candles flicker softly
The shadows on the walls
Moths dance silently
And the ghosts from the coffins crawl
This story was brought to our attention by the manager of Blickling Hall.
The Rumour has it that a few hundred years ago, the grounds keeper , an awful man, was buried alive by the people who hated him. After drinking himself into a stupor they stood his coffin upright in St.Andrews Church (Blickling Hall) and left him there. On doing his weekly rounds the Church Warden went into the crypt and found the coffin had fallen over. He stood it upright again and on his return the coffin had fallen over yet again.
Needless to say that very same coffin keeps falling over to this very day.
ZB would like to thank the staff and manager of Blickling Hall for their help ;) Without them we wouldn't have Moths.