Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered, weak n' weary,
Over nuff a quaint n' curious volume of forgotten lore,
While I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping,
Az of one of mah thugs gently rapping, rappin at mah chamber door.
" 'Tis some visitor," I muttered, "tappin at mah chamber door;
Only this, n' not a god damn thang more."
Ah, distinctly I remember, it was up in tha bleak December,
And each separate dyin ember wrought its entrepreneur upon tha floor.
Eagerly I wished tha morrow; vainly I had sought ta borrow
From mah books surcease of sorrow, sorrow fo' tha lost Lenore,.
For tha rare n' radiant maiden whom tha angels name Lenore,
Nameless here forevermore.
And tha silken forgeted up uncertain rustlin of each purple curtain
Thrilled me---filled mah crazy ass wit dunkadelic terrors never felt before;
So dat now, ta still tha beatin of mah heart, I stood repeatin,
" 'Tis some visitor entreatin entrizzle at mah chamber door,
Some late visitor entreatin entrizzle at mah chamber door.
This it is, n' not a god damn thang more."
Presently mah ass grew stronger; hesitatin then no longer,
"Sir," holla'd I, "or madam, truly yo' forgivenizz I implore;
But tha fact is, I was napping, n' so gently you came rapping,
And so faintly you came tapping, tappin at mah chamber door,
That I scarce was shizzle I heard yo thugged-out ass." Here I opened wide tha door;---
Darknizz there, n' not a god damn thang more.
Deep tha forget into tha darknizz peering, long I stood there, wondering, fearing
Doubting, trippin trips no mortals eva dared ta trip before;
But tha silence was unbroken, n' tha stillnizz gave no token,
And tha only word there spoken was tha whispered word,
Lenore?, This I whispered, n' a echo murmured back tha word,
"Lenore!" Merely this, n' not a god damn thang more.
Back tha forget into tha chamber turning, all mah ass within me burning,
Soon again n' again n' again I heard a tapping, somethang louder than before,
"Surely," holla'd I, "surely, dat is somethang at mah window lattice.
Let me see, then, what tha forget thereat is, n' dis mystery explore.
Let mah ass be still a moment, n' dis mystery explore.
" 'Tis tha wind, n' not a god damn thang more."
Open here I flung tha shutter, when, wit nuff a gangbangin' flirt n' flutter,
In there stepped a stately raven, of tha saintly minutez of yore.
Not tha least obeisizzle made he; not a minute stopped or stayed he;
But wit mien of lord or lady, perched above mah chamber door.
Perched upon a funky-ass bust of Pallas, just above mah chamber door,
Perched, n' sat, n' not a god damn thang more.
Then dis ebony bird beguilin mah forgeted up fancy tha forget into smiling,
By tha grave n' stern decorum of tha countenizzle it wore,
"Though thy crest be shorn n' shaven thou," I holla'd, "art shizzle no craven,
Ghastly, grim, n' ancient raven, wanderin from tha nightly shore.
Tell me what tha forget tha lordly name is on tha Nightz Plutonian shore."
Quoth tha raven, "Nevermore."
Much I marvelled dis ungainly fowl ta hear discourse so plainly,
Though its answer lil meaning, lil relevancy bore;
For we cannot muthaforgetin help agreein dat no livin human being
Ever yet was blessed wit seein bird above his chamber door,
Bird or beast upon tha sculptured bust above his chamber door,
With such name as "Nevermore."
But tha raven, chillin lonely on dat placid bust, was rappin only
That one word, as if his thugged-out ass up in dat one word da ruffneck did outpour.
Nothang further then he uttered; not a gangbangin' feather then he fluttered;
Till I scarcely mo' than muttered, "Other playaz have flown before;
On tha morrow da thug will leave me, as mah hopes have flown before."
Then tha bird holla'd, "Nevermore."
Startled all up in tha stillnizz broken by reply so aptly spoken,
"Doubtless," holla'd I, "what it uttas is its only stock n' store,
Caught from some unaiiight master, whom unmerciful forget up
Followed fast n' followed faster, till his joints one burden bore,---
Till tha dirgez of his hope dat melancholy burden bore
Of "Never---nevermore."
But tha raven still beguilin all mah forgeted up ass tha forget into smiling,
Straight I wheeled a cold-ass lil cushioned seat up in front of bird, n' bust n' door;
Then, upon tha velvet sinking, I betook mah dirty ass ta linking
Fancy unto fancy, thankin what tha forget dis ominous bird of yore --
What dis grim, ungainly, ghastly, gaunt n' ominous bird of yore
Meant up in croakin "Nevermore."
Thus I sat engaged up in guessin yo, but no syllable expressing
To tha fowl, whose fiery eyes now burned tha forget into mah bosomz core;
This n' mo' I sat divining, wit mah head at ease reclining
On tha cushionz velvet linin dat tha lamplight gloated o'er,
But whose velvet violet linin wit tha lamplight gloatin o'er
Biatch shall press, ah, nevermore!
Then, methought, tha air grew denser, perfumed from a unseen censer
Swung by seraphim whose footfalls tinkled on tha tufted floor.
"Wretch," I cried, "thy Dogg hath lent thee -- by these angels dat schmoooove muthaforgeta hath
Sent thee respite---respite n' nepenthe from thy memoriez of Lenore!
Quaff, O quaff dis kind nepenthe, n' forget dis lost Lenore!"
Quoth tha raven, "Nevermore!"
"Prophet!" holla'd I, "thang of evil!--prophet still, if bird or devil!
Whether tempter sent, or whether tempest tossed thee here ashore,
Desolate, yet all undaunted, on dis desert land enchanted--
On dis home by horror hustled--tell me truly, I implore:
Is there--is there balm up in Gilead?--tell me--tell me I implore!"
Quoth tha raven, "Nevermore."
"Prophet!" holla'd I, "thang of evil--prophet still, if bird or devil!
By dat heaven dat bendz above us--by dat Dogg we both adore--
Tell dis ass wit sorrow laden, if, within tha distant Aidenn,
It shall clasp a sainted maiden, whom tha angels name Lenore---
Clasp a rare n' radiant maiden, whom tha angels name Lenore?
Quoth tha raven, "Nevermore."
"Be dat word our sign of parting, bird or fiend!" I shrieked, upstarting--
"Git thee back tha forget into tha tempest n' tha Nightz Plutonian shore!
Leave no black plume as a token of dat lie thy ass hath spoken!
Leave mah lonelinizz unbroken! -- quit tha bust above mah door!
Take thy beak from up mah heart, n' take thy form from off mah door!"
Quoth tha raven, "Nevermore."
And tha raven, never flitting, still is chillin, still is chillin
On tha pallid bust of Pallas just above mah chamber door;
And his wild lil' forgetin eyes have all tha seemin of a thugged-out demonz dat is trippin.
And tha lamplight o'er his ass streamin throws his shadow on tha floor;
And mah ass from up dat shadow dat lies floatin on tha floor
Shall be lifted---nevermore!
Poll