(Edgar, brokenhearted, mopes around his family manor. He finds himself ruffling through an old suitcase in the attic.)
(Narrator)
The old trunk in the attic
Where grandmother's broken heart was tossed
In a box with a ballet shoe
And dead soldier's cross
The old trunk in the attic
With the candlesticks your great uncle saved
From the girl in the market
Whose mother he once paid to go away
The old trunk in the attic
With a dress for a child but hardly worn
Stained in a memory and tears
For a name you'll never learn
The old trunk in the attic
Where your grandfather's gla** eye lays to rest
Your sweet aunt's nostalgia
And Annabella's formula for raising up the dead
Annabella's formula for raising up the dead
Clever mother Annabella with her clever head
Annabella's formula for raising up the dead