The edison museum, not open to the public Its haunted towers rise into the clouds above 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 in it's platform In the topmost tower, the lights burn 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
The edison museum, not open to the public Its haunted towers rise into the clouds above it The oldest, greatest and most famous haunted mansion in new jersey
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