When I was a baby
my mommy read me the story of
And it rhymed like the books on my shelf in the corner,
and mommy's voice went up and down like music
that lulled me to sleep.
And Annabell danced along the beach,
and we held hands in the waves.
When I was older
my teacher read us the story of
And it still rhymed liked the tales I used to read,
but her voice was dull and flat,
and it lulled my class to sleep.
And she told us that Annabell died of cold,
and Edgar stayed with her in the waves.
Now I am grown
and I read myself the story of
And I wonder why heaven took her,
like it did to mother's voice.
But Edgar loved her,
and lulled her to sleep.
And I am so alone and so cold,
but they stand together in the waves.
And I hate them for it.