Ghost House 1922
Royden Lyrics


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A faded picture etched in glass.
Counting the hours that would not pass.
Crossing the threshold, standing still.
Walk through these halls that once were filled.

These walls ripped down.
Theyre screaming out.
No one can save us now.

Cursed is the light.
Which enters this place.
Wrapping the dark in curtains and lace.
Hiding whats inside.
The truth we never find.

Youll never make a sound;
No one will hear a sound.
No one can save us now.
We have walked the trail of dead.
We have washed our hands of this night.

Cursing the lives.
That enter this place.
Wrapping their wounds.
In white cotton lace.
Holding whats inside.
The truth we never find.

Youll never make a sound;
No one will hear a sound.
No one can save us now.




We have walked the trail of dead.
We have washed our hands of this night

Overall Meaning

The lyrics of Royden's song Ghost House 1922 are quite eerie and intriguing. The opening lines of the verses paint the picture of a place frozen in time, a place that once was filled with life and activity but is now deserted and silent. The faded picture etched in glass symbolizes the painful memories that haunt the singer, who is somehow trapped in this ghostly house. The counting of the hours that would not pass suggests a feeling of helplessness and desperation, a desire to escape from the haunting memories that linger within the walls of this house.


The chorus of the song reveals the sense of doom and despair that permeates every corner of the house. The walls ripped down and screaming out suggest that the truth that has been hidden for so long is finally coming to the surface, unleashing a force that cannot be contained or controlled. The curse of the light that enters the house suggests that even brightness and hope can be tainted by the darkness that resides within the house's heart. The truth that was hidden for so long is finally revealed, but it is too late to save anyone.


The second verse delves deeper into the house's curse, exploring the lives of those who succumbed to its power. The singer curses the lives that entered into the house, emphasizing their wounds and suffering by wrapping them in white cotton lace. Even the truth that has been so elusive is still hidden, never to be found. The final lines of the song reveal an acceptance of the situation, a recognition that they have walked the trail of dead and washed their hands of this tragic night. The ghost house will always be their prison, and there is no hope of ever escaping its grasp.


Line by Line Meaning

A faded picture etched in glass.
The memory of what once was, preserved in a ghostly image.


Counting the hours that would not pass.
Trapped in time, unable to escape the haunting.


Crossing the threshold, standing still.
Frozen by fear, unable to move forward or return to safety.


Walk through these halls that once were filled.
A place of life, now abandoned and forgotten.


These walls ripped down.
A symbol of destruction and despair.


They're screaming out.
Echoes of the past, haunting the present.


No one can save us now.
Trapped in a nightmare, there is no escape.


Cursed is the light.
Even the illumination of hope is blighted in this cursed place.


Which enters this place.
Any attempt at salvation or rescue only brings further torment.


Wrapping the dark in curtains and lace.
The illusion of beauty covering the ugliness and terror within.


Hiding what's inside.
The truth of what happened here is shrouded in mystery and fear.


The truth we never find.
Forever hidden, the truth remains a haunting enigma.


You'll never make a sound;
Silenced by the terror of the past, there is no hope of escape.


No one will hear a sound.
Trapped in the silence of the haunted house's curse, no one can help.


We have walked the trail of dead.
All who have entered this house have been victims to its terror.


We have washed our hands of this night.
The memory of this cursed night will never leave us.


Cursing the lives.
This house is a curse on all who enter.


That enter this place.
Those who dare to cross the threshold are doomed to suffer.


Wrapping their wounds.
The scars of this house never fully heal, continuing to inflict pain and torment.


In white cotton lace.
Even the apparent purity of innocence is tainted in this cursed place.


Holding what's inside.
Trapped and haunted, the house holds the secrets of its victims forever.


The truth we never find.
Forever trapped, the truth of the house's curse remains a mystery.




Contributed by Elliot J. Suggest a correction in the comments below.
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