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The Raven

The Raven

And the Raven – never flitting

The Raven – never flitting

Once upon a midnight dreary,

while I pondered, weak and weary,

Over many a quaint and curious

volume of forgotten lore

On the pallid bust of Pallas

Just above my chamber door;

And his eyes have all the seeming

Of a demon’s that is dreaming,

And the lamp-light o’er him streaming

throws his shadow on the floor

 

 

Shall be lifted – nevermore! – nevermore!

And the Raven – never flitting

The Raven – never flitting

still sitting – still sitting

And the Raven - still sitting

nevermore! – nevermore!

And my soul from out that shadow

That lies floating on the floor

Pre-Chorus

Shall be lifted – nevermore! – nevermore!

 

 

And the Raven – never flitting

The Raven – never flitting

still sitting – still sitting

And the Raven – still sitting

But the Raven, sitting lonely

on the placid bust, spoke only

That one word, as if his soul

in that one word he did outpour.

And the Raven – never flitting

The Raven – never flitting

still sitting – still sitting

And the Raven – still sitting

Nevermore - nevermore

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