| Who’s that rapping at my chamber door?
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| Mr. (mister) Raven!
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| All up in my grill like, «Nevermore.»
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| Kick it! |
| Once upon a midnight dreary, while I kicked it weak and weary,
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| Dark and cold just like Lake Eerie, Brand New sample, someone clear me.
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| While I nodded nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping.
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| Up like, «What?», this thunder clapping; |
| stompin' like the devil or a Parish
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| Chaplin.
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| I dropped my Lovecraft on the floor, like Arthur Gordon Pym on a distant shore
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| Open window, let the fire escape. |
| Man in the alley in a top hat and cape.
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| Twenty-pound bird lands on the sill, cold feet cold eyes give me a chill.
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| Grim face, grim stare, death carnivore, «he that raven «Nevermore.»
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| Who’s that (who's that) rapping?
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| Who’s that rapping at my chamber door?
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| Mr. (mister) Raven!
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| Corvus corax come to settle the score
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| I miss Lenore, my Annabel Lee, taken by angels from me.
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| Alone with books (hey that’s me!), harbinger of death visiting me.
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| I said, «Can I help you, evil prophet? |
| If you got a problem, look,
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| I’ll solve it.»
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| He checked my hook, DJ revolved it, perched on Pallas, chalice dropped it.
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| «Tell me sir, please, if you can. |
| Am I good or evil man?
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| What can I say, what can I do, when will I be rid of you?»
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| «Nevermore,""he he at me, hating on this poor MC,
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| Satanic raven, Niche glee, Screaming at me like Gordon Ramsey.
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| I jumped into my Eldorado and checked my cask of Amontillado
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| Call a nurse, disperse my thirst? |
| put this process in reverse.
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| Wish I’d had some warning first, MC Lars, '88 hearse.
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| Now I’ll never be Sage Francis, while on my grave this black bird dances.
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| The raven’s eyes still have the seeming of a demon that is dreaming,
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| Lamplight over him still streaming, hear my screaming, hear me screaming!
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| My soul still floats there on that floor and shall be lifted nevermore.
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| Afflicted calm, scratched up my door, canonized piece, US folklore.
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| Who’s that (who's that) rapping?
|
| Who’s that rapping at my chamber door?
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| Mr. (mister) Raven!
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| All up in my grill like, «Nevermore.»
|
| Who’s that (who's that) rapping?
|
| Who’s that rapping at my chamber door?
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| Mr. (mister) Raven!
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| Found dead in the streets of Baltimore
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| Whose house? |