[Spoken Track]
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[Poe:]
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Once upon a midnight dreary
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as I pondered, weak and weary
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over many a quaint and curious
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volume of forgotten lore
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while I nodded, nearly napping
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suddenly there came a tapping
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as of some one gently rapping
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rapping at my chamber door
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"'Tis some visitor," I muttered
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"tapping at my chamber door
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only this and nothing more."
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Muttering I got up weakly
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always I've had trouble sleeping
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stumbling upright my mind racing
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furtive thoughts flowing once more
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I, there hoping for some sunrise
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happiness would be a surprise
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loneliness no longer a prize
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rapping at my chamber door
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seeking out the clever bore
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lost in dreams forever more
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only this and nothing more
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Hovering my pulse was racing
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stale tobacco my lips tasting
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scotch sitting upon my basin
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remnants of the night before
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came again
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infernal tapping on the door
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in my mind jabbing
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is it in or outside rapping
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calling out to me once more
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the fit and fury of Lenore
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nameless here forever more
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And the silken sad uncertain
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rustling of the purple curtain
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thrilled me, filled me
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with fantastic terrors never felt before
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so that now, oh wind, stood breathing
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hoping yet to calm my breathing
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"'Tis some visitor entreating
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entrance at my chamber door
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some lost visitor entreating
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entrance at my chamber door
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this it is, and nothing more."
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Deep into the darkness peering
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long I stood there
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wondering fearing
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doubting dreaming fantasies
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no mortal dared to dream before
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but the silence was unbroken
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and the stillness gave no token
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and the only word there spoken
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was the whispered name, "Lenore."
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this I thought
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and out loud whispered from my lips
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the foul name festered
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echoing itself
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merely this, and nothing more
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Back into my chamber turning
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every nerve within me burning
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when once again I heard a tapping
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somewhat louder than before
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"surely," said I
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surely that is something at my iron staircase
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open the door to see what threat is
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open the window, free the shutters
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let us this mystery explore
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oh, bursting heart be still this once
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and let this mystery explore
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it is the wind and nothing more
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Just one epithet I muttered as inside
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I gagged and shuddered
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when with manly flirt and flutter
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in there flew a stately raven
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sleek and ravenous as any foe
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not the least obeisance made he
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not a minutes gesture towards me
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of recognition or politeness
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but perched above my chamber door
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this fowl and salivating visage
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insinuating with its knowledge
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perched above my chamber door
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silent sat and staring
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nothing more
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Askance, askew
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the self's sad fancy smiles at you I swear
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at this savage viscous countenance it wears
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Though you show here shorn and shaven
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and I admit myself forlorn and craven
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ghastly grim and ancient raven
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wandering from the opiate shores
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tell me what thy lordly name is
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that you are not nightmare sewage
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some dire powder drink or inhalation
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framed from flames of downtown lore
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quotes the raven, "nevermore."
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And the raven sitting lonely
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staring sickly at my male sex only
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that one word
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as if his soul in that one word
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he did outpour, "pathetic."
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nothing farther than he uttered
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not a feather then he fluttered
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till finally was I that muttered as I stared
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dully at the floor
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"other friends have flown and left me
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flown as each and every hope has flown before
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as you no doubt will fore the morrow."
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but the bird said, "never, more."
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Then I felt the air grow denser
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perfumed from some unseen incense
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as though accepting angelic intrusion
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when in fact I felt collusion
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before the guise of false memories respite
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respite through the haze of cocaine's glory
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I smoke and smoke the blue vial's glory
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to forget
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at once
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the base Lenore
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quoth the raven, "nevermore."
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"Prophet," said I, "thing of evil
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prophet still, if bird or devil
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by that heaven that bend above us
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by that God we both ignore
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tell this soul with sorrow laden
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willful and destructive intent
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how had lapsed a pure heart lady
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to the greediest of needs
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sweaty arrogant dickless liar
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who ascribed to nothing higher
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than
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The Raven
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| Lou Reed |
