Edward came home at quarter past three,
Disheveled and drunk to a certain degree,
Torn clothes he was wearing,
That day I saw him staring,
At the basket beneath his feet,

Edward came home at quarter past three,
Basking and laughing from the madness in he,
Peering pleasantly…
Hesitantly…
At the basket at his feet,

Edward came home at a quarter past three,
Just yesterday maybe,
To deliver a basket,
Holding the casket,
Of Annabel Lee,

Edward came home at a quarter past three,
Crying as he heard from me,
Those rumors ruminated,
About a crime that was illuminated,
The murder of Annabel Lee