Stilts on ice in Boston city br Isn’t it a pity br The story it goes br Tells of a distorted ghost br And this we know br His laurel’s on the snow br Yearly keeping we see him br Walks in the same way br To the same shady place br He says br Hey Poe, hey Poe, hey Poe, let’s have a toast br br Tamerlane, the Raven, Eulalie br A prospectus br Tamerlane, the Raven, Eulalie br The Styluses br br Propora, you aren’t alone br At the headstone time retain br A black-clad figure br With silver-tipped cane br Half bottle of Martel br Identity they’ll never tell br Come New England fall br Enter Westminster Hall br And the burial floor br (Their Gothic Revival for Baltimore) br He walks into another shady place br He says br Hey Poe, hey Poe, hey Poe, let’s have a toastbr br Mason Maestrobr br