The Edison Museum, not open to the public
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Its haunted towers rise into the clouds above it
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Folks drive in from out of town to gaze in amazement when they see it
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Just outside the gate, I look into the courtyard
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Underneath the gathering thunderstorm
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Through the iron bars, I see the Black Mariah
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Revolving slowly on its platform
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In the topmost tower, a light burns dim
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A coiling filament glowing within
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The Edison Museum, once a bustling factory,
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Today's but a darkened cobweb-covered hive of industry
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The tallest, widest, and most famous
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Haunted mansion in New Jersey
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Behind a wooden door, the voice of Thomas Alva
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Recites a poem on a phonograph
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Ghosts float up the stair
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Like silent moving pictures
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The loyal phantoms of his in-house staff
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A wondrous place it is, there can be no doubt
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But no one ever goes in
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And no one ever goes out
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So when your children quarrel, and nothing seems to quell them
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Just tell them that you'll take them to the Edison Museum
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The largest independently owned and operated
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Mausoleum
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The Edison Museum (Another Version)
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| They Might Be Giants |
