They Might Be Giants - Edison Museum - Текст песни

The Edison Museum, not open to the public.
                            Its haunted towers rise into the clouds above it.
                            Folks drive in from out of town
                            To gaze in amazement when they see it.

                            Just outside the gate, I look into the courtyard
                            Underneath the gathering thunderstorm.
                            Through the iron bars, I see the Black Maria
                            Revolving slowly on its platform.
                            In the topmost tower, a light burns dim
                            A coiling filament glowing within.

                            The Edison Museum, once a bustling factory
                            Today is but a darkened cobweb covered hive of 
                            industry
                            The tallest, widest and most famous haunted mansion 
                             in New Jersey

                            Behind a wooden door, the voice of Thomas Alva
                            Recites a poem on a phonograph.
                            Ghosts float up the stairs, like silent moving 
                            pictures:
                            The loyal phantoms of his in-house staff.
                            A wondrous place it is, there can be no doubt;
                            But no one ever goes in, and no one ever goes out.

                            So when your children quarrel
                            and nothing seems to quell them,
                            Just tell them that you'll take them to
                            the Edison Museum.
                            The largest independently-owned and operated 
                            mausoleum.