CHORUS

  no Edgar.  no Edgar, not today
  your art is too mean and your life too obscene
  for us

VERSE

  John Allen, this letter is say that the way you treated me today
  shows contempt and I won't suffer that
  you show more sympathy to the rats
  So a trunk and some money would do.  To Boston I'll repair but if you
  really cared, you'd defray my risk and stop gloating like a 
  damned sadist.

  But all he gets is...

  Mrs. Clemm, I'm writting you to say that Virginia, your daughter, has 
  this way of smiling that blows away my doubt.
  I dare not imagine my life without
  So I ask, this sergent major asks, for her hand so that I may yet bask
  in the warm glow of family love.  It's a heat I've never known of
  
  But all he gets is...

  Doc Snodgrass, a gentleman you know has collapsed, I think his name was Poe.
  Laudanum, or absinthe he did drink.  Comatose, his life is on the brink.
  Oh Edgar, you broken old sod.  Broke the rules now you face the rod.
  Drinking on art will take its toll.  At five o'clock you cried 
  "God bless my poor soul!"

  But all he gets is...

BREAK 
  
  When Tamerlane is king and the raven blacky sings; will all this approbation
  be enough to keep you off that hopeless stuff, for more than just a week?