When I find the living a bore,
There's a place I go.
I answer the call, go over a wall,
Where the crosses are all in a row.
Mind the trees, get down on my knees,
There's a hole in the gate.
I look 'round, that I won't be found,
And sit down next to his grave.
If you squirm at the Conqueror Worm,
This is no place for thee.
Or if you fright at the mere site,
Of the corpse of my Annabel Lee.
If you fear there's something you hear,
A heart beating under the floor.
Still your heart, there's no need to start,
It's just me having tea with Lenore.
Sit here on the ground,
Dead leaves in the trees all around you.
Come enter this land,
Take this book in your hands.
If you find the living a bore,
There's a place you can go.
Answer the call, go over the wall,
Where the crosses are all in a row.
Mind the trees, get down on your knees,
Sneak in just like the breeze.
Look 'round, though you won't be found,
It's just you, Edgar Allan and me.
Sit here on the ground,
Dead leaves in the trees all around you.
Come enter this land,
Take this book in your hands.
