Late last night, about a quarter to twelve In the middle of an awful storm I took fright at the terrible sight Of a raven flying into my room My blood ran cold, my heart stood still As I pulled the covers over my head A minute dragged by as I opened my eyes up To find her at the end of my bed Then she spoke in a devilish croak About herself being one of a score And I felt sick at the very idea Of dealing with nineteen more She said, look out your window I see a skyfull, I pull a rifle on them all Pink sunrise in the wintry skies All warm on the wings of a dove She sinks and lands on the back of my hand And sings with the voice of love... Thoughts made flesh can be beautiful things As I am one of the same Fed so well on the best of your dreams And the beauty found within But those black beasts that you see in the east Are scratching on the orchard floor At split, sweet fruits and the writhing worms That you keep behind the straining door Go to the cellar! I see the beasts and theyre eating Feasting on it Fill my head with small white flowers Help the sweetness heal the sour Draw on high religious power Free the ravens from the tower
raven, skyfull, beast, croak, wintry