Graveyard Picnic

When I find the living a boreThere's a place I goI answer the call, go over a wallWhere the crosses are all in a row
I mind the trees, get down on my kneesThere's a hole in the gate
I look around, that I won't be foundAnd sit down next to his graveIf you squirm at the Conqueror WormThis is no place for theeOr if you fright at the mere site
Of the corpse of my Annabel Lee
If you fear there's something you hearA heart beating under the floorStill your heart, there's no need to start
It's just me having tea with LenoreSit here on the ground
Dead leaves in the trees all around you
Come enter this landTake this book in your handIf you find the living a boreThere's a place you can go
Answer the call, go over the wallWhere the crosses are all in a row
Mind the trees, get down on your kneesSneak in just like the breeze
Look around, though you won't be foundIt's just you, Edgar Allen and me