| Song | My Orphanage |
| Artist | Rasputina |
| Album | Cabin Fever |
| 作曲 : Creager | |
| I have been held in this orphanage for longer than my years. | |
| I am made to eat this horrid porridge. | |
| They box me on the ears. | |
| How often | |
| I vow to flee, to go. | |
| But this is the only home | |
| I know. My stammered speech, my one suitcase, | |
| My Orphanage, | |
| My hateful place. | |
| Like that case, this place | |
| I carry Inside of me. | |
| It's not so very heavy for a stocky child. | |
| They said my mama's loose. | |
| They said she was wild. | |
| Though I never knew or saw that woman sent with me this fatal flaw. | |
| My strange and puffy moon-like face, | |
| My Orphanage, | |
| My hateful place. | |
| My stringy hair, my lack of grace, | |
| My Orphanage, | |
| My hateful place. | |
| I could have been lucky like them | |
| Happy families | |
| Look in my | |
| Dark, rotted heardened heart and you will see: | |
| The downcast glance, the empty embrace | |
| Of my orphanage, | |
| My hateful place. | |
| I'm an evil thing. | |
| I am way full of something | |
| That was left by the side of the road. | |
| I am chipped, curly-lipped. | |
| Never any kindness was shown. | |
| No one else is here, | |
| My Orphanage, | |
| My Dear. It's in me. | |
| It's a part. | |
| My Orphanage, | |
| My Heart. |
| zuò qǔ : Creager | |
| I have been held in this orphanage for longer than my years. | |
| I am made to eat this horrid porridge. | |
| They box me on the ears. | |
| How often | |
| I vow to flee, to go. | |
| But this is the only home | |
| I know. My stammered speech, my one suitcase, | |
| My Orphanage, | |
| My hateful place. | |
| Like that case, this place | |
| I carry Inside of me. | |
| It' s not so very heavy for a stocky child. | |
| They said my mama' s loose. | |
| They said she was wild. | |
| Though I never knew or saw that woman sent with me this fatal flaw. | |
| My strange and puffy moonlike face, | |
| My Orphanage, | |
| My hateful place. | |
| My stringy hair, my lack of grace, | |
| My Orphanage, | |
| My hateful place. | |
| I could have been lucky like them | |
| Happy families | |
| Look in my | |
| Dark, rotted heardened heart and you will see: | |
| The downcast glance, the empty embrace | |
| Of my orphanage, | |
| My hateful place. | |
| I' m an evil thing. | |
| I am way full of something | |
| That was left by the side of the road. | |
| I am chipped, curlylipped. | |
| Never any kindness was shown. | |
| No one else is here, | |
| My Orphanage, | |
| My Dear. It' s in me. | |
| It' s a part. | |
| My Orphanage, | |
| My Heart. |