An old cask of amontillado
floats in Tokyo Bay
while the House of Usher’s melting
down Nagasaki way.
My telltale heart lies beating
on top of Mount Suribach’
dusting up rue Morgue Avenue
and the paper house I watch.
An old cask of amontillado
floats in Tokyo Bay
while the House of Usher’s melting
down Nagasaki way.
My telltale heart lies beating
on top of Mount Suribach’
dusting up rue Morgue Avenue
and the paper house I watch.