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 its 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