Edgar Allan Poe Puppets

TRUE! nervous, very, very dreadfully nervous I had been and am; but why WILL toi say that I am mad? The disease had sharpened my senses, not destroyed, not dulled them. Above all was the sense of hearing acute. I heard all things in the heaven and in the earth. I heard many things in hell. How then am I mad? Hearken! and observe how healthily, how calmly, I can tell toi the whole story.

It is impossible to say how first the idea entered my brain, but, once conceived, it haunted me jour and night. Object there was none. Passion there was none. I loved the old man. He had never wronged me. He...

The stories they have a dit were true
There was once a young girl like me and you
That loved to read Edgar Allen Poe
How her cœur, coeur felt lire his tales of woe

She lived in the 1800's
Rebellious, young and dark
She wanted to be a young Joan of Arc
As she ran away to see Poe

Virginia to Boston, a long long rode
As her parents were waiting for her at her humble abode
Then, she felt disbelief when she heard
The madness of Edgar Allen Poe

People disapproved of him
Trying to ruin her long strange trip
But she still goes on saying
She longs to hear his tales of murder, l’amour and woe

One jour she stumbled to a home...