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THE RAVEN

And the Raven – never flitting

The Raven – never flitting

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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,

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And the lamp-light o’er him streaming

throws his shadow on the floor

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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.

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And the Raven – never flitting

The Raven – never flitting

still sitting – still sitting

And the Raven – still sitting

​

Nevermore - nevermore

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