The Raven
The Raven
And the Raven – never flitting
The Raven – never flitting
Once upon a midnight dreary,
while I pondered, weak and weary,
Over many a quaint and curious
volume of forgotten lore
On the pallid bust of Pallas
Just above my chamber door;
And his eyes have all the seeming
Of a demon’s that is dreaming,
And the lamp-light o’er him streaming
throws his shadow on the floor
Shall be lifted – nevermore! – nevermore!
And the Raven – never flitting
The Raven – never flitting
still sitting – still sitting
And the Raven - still sitting
nevermore! – nevermore!
And my soul from out that shadow
That lies floating on the floor
Pre-Chorus
Shall be lifted – nevermore! – nevermore!
And the Raven – never flitting
The Raven – never flitting
still sitting – still sitting
And the Raven – still sitting
But the Raven, sitting lonely
on the placid bust, spoke only
That one word, as if his soul
in that one word he did outpour.
And the Raven – never flitting
The Raven – never flitting
still sitting – still sitting
And the Raven – still sitting
Nevermore - nevermore