Up a street called Magazine
Through a black wrought-iron gate
Down a walkway wide and clean
I was to meet my fate
A motherless child was I
A fatherless waif
A brotherless sister
With a gaunt and garish face
Bodies cold and hard they were
Still I stood beside 'em
'Til Mother Margaret brought me in
To the Poydras Girls Asylum, where
Mr. Poydras gave me walls
And a roof above my head
Mr. Poydras gave me water
Mr. Poydras gave me bread
Mr. Poydras left a dowry
For the day that I was wed
But I wish I had my mother's arms instead
I was told I should be grateful
I was told what I should know
Manners, letters, ciphering
I was told to cook and sew
Told about the angels high
And told not to forget them
I was told to beware the demons
But I had already met them
And I carried them inside me
In a twisted ball of hate
'Til the day that I was grown
And walked back through that iron gate, where
Mr. Poydras gave me walls
And a roof above my head
Mr. Poydras gave me water
Mr. Poydras gave me bread
Mr. Poydras left a dowry
For the day that I was wed
I wish I could see my father's eyes instead
Walls and roof and bread and water
May have kept my body whole
But without a family's love
Those good deeds could not mend my soul
I was punished, I was humbled
While the matrons would deride me
As thankless, unappreciative
A fire welled up inside me
For an orphan I will always be
And this place will 'ere remind me
So through the iron gate I walk
With the flames rising up behind me, for
Mr. Poydras gave me walls
And a roof above my head
Mr. Poydras gave me water
Mr. Poydras gave me bread
Mr. Poydras left a dowry
For the day that I was wed
But I'll always wish that I had died instead
Yes I'll always wish that I had died instead