I, Henry Ravenswood,
Was the richest man in Thunder Mesa.
During the rush of '49,
I struck gold,
And became obscenely wealthy overnight.
I soon came to own several properties in the town,
The store, the bank, the hotel, and so on.
I built myself a lovely house on the hill,
Where I could admire my properties from afar.
I showered my wife, Martha
And my daughter, Emily,
In every luxury and refinement imaginable.
One day, when my daughter was barely a woman,
Not more than a child,
She came to me on the arm of an Edward Gracey,
Whom she had met at a social.
She told me she was deliriously in love,
And that she would marry him.
He wasn't good enough,
And never will be.
I told him that she couldn't
Take the stress of marital vows,
And seasoned her wine with arsenic.
I told her that he had lost his pitiful
Excuse of a fortune
In a game of poker,
And hung himself.
I still wander the halls,
Making sure they never find each other,
Laughing delightedly at young Edward's misfortune.