In the old town of Baltimore,
Where the Wild Things grow
Sits a lowly Raven,
Looking over the people below.
Perched on a sill, ever so still
Waiting for him to return,
Desperately calling his master
As the lanterns continue to burn.
He speaks with the dead,
And stands in the shadows,
Listens to birds while they sing,
As the chambers of his lonely heart,
Are ever so emptying.
The Raven, paitently waiting,
Making no steps nor a sound,
Faithful obedient servant,
Friend, eternally Earthbound.
Hear of this creature,
His song is his story,
About the one who was Lost,
This man they called him Poe,
While his name, the rest of the world forgot.
The man dressed in black
We wait to come back,
And bid his children well.
Through the many years of his wisdom,
Is a place we enjoy to dwell.
He calls to the villians to do his bidding
The Children of the night,
As terror takes away the feeling
Of days ever so warm and bright.
"Dessemble you creatures,
Evil and tyrant,
The night is ever so young,
Let's raise our mugs,
You thieves and thugs,
As we wait for him to come."
That is the story
Of the mysterious Raven
Who's been there since time began,
Wandering this Earth for Centuries,
Searching for this Immortal Man.
To this day we light our candles
The night is so black,
Waiting for our Master,
In hopes he'll find his way back.