They Might Be Giants – The Edison Museum (Guitar)

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The Edison Museum, not open to the public

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Its haunted towers rise into the clouds above it

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Folks drive in from out of town

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To gaze in amazement when they see it

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Just outside the gate I look into the courtyard

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Underneath the gathering thunderstorm

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Through the iron bars, I see the Black Mariah

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Revolving slowly on its platform

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In the topmost tower, a light burns dim

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A coiling filament glowing within

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The Edison Museum, once a bustling factory

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Today is but a darkened, cobweb covered hive of industry

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The tallest, widest and most famous

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Haunted mansion in New Jersey

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Behind a wooden door, the voice of Thomas Alva

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Recites a poem on a phonograph

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Ghosts float up the stair, like silent moving pictures

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The loyal phantoms of his in-house staff

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A wondrous place it is, there can be no doubt

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But no one ever goes in, and no one ever goes out

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So when your children quarrel and nothing seems to quell them

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Tell them that you'll take them to the Edison Museum

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The largest independently owned

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And operated mausoleum