I have a towel to my name and nothing more
No stories for reciting and
No parties for inviting and
No lovers for exciting like a
Lost Lenore.
A towel to my name and nothing more...

There is a cloud above my head so hanging high
I wait to see it raining
But alas I am now straining
And I still can see no raining
Through this darkest sky.
This cloud above my head and nothing more...

A demon sits and waits for my approach
For years he has been sleeping
In the fires of the weeping
And alas I am now creeping
To that hellish coach.
A demon sits and waits and nothing more...