December
23 January 2008
Stop all the clocks, cut off the telephone,
Prevent the dog from barking with a juicy bone,
Silence the pianos and with muffled drum
Bring out the coffin, let the mourners come.
Let aeroplanes circle moaning overhead
Scribbling on the sky the message He Is Dead,
Put crepe bows round the white necks of the public doves,
Let the traffic policemen wear black cotton gloves.
He was my North, my South, my East and West,
My working week and my Sunday rest,
My noon, my midnight, my talk, my song;
I thought that love would last for ever: I was wrong.
The stars are not wanted now: put out every one;
Pack up the moon and dismantle the sun;
Pour away the ocean and sweep up the wood.
For nothing now can ever come to any good.
(jag förväntar mig inte att ni ska förstå)
They say memories are golden
Well maybe that is true
I never wanted memories,
I only wanted you
A million times I needed you
A million times I cried
If love alone could have saved you,
you never would have died
In life I loved you dearly
in death I love you still
In my heart you hold a place
that no one could ever fill
If tears could build a stairway
And heartache make a lane
I'd walk the path to heaven
and bring you back again.
Direct link:
http://dayviews.com/kissingspine/2008/1/23/
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