sound2

Prophets said I, thing of evil. Prophets still, if bird or devil. By that heaven I've been to, brother. By that God we both adore. Tell this soul with sorrow laden, it's within the district laden. It shall clasp a saint and maiden, whom the angels name limit. Clasp a rare and radiant maiden, whom the angels name limit. Who's the raven? Never know. Be that word I've signed a part in, bird or fiend, I shrieked upstarted. Get thee back into the tempest, and the night's a-turning short. Be no black tongue as a token of that lie the soul hath spoken.