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lyrics
Stop all the clocks
And cut off the phone
Prevent the dog barking
Take away his bone
Silence the pianos
And muffle the drums
Bring out the coffin
Let the mourners come
Put bows around the white necks
Of the innocent doves
Stop traffic with policemen
Wearing black cotton gloves
Let aeroplanes circle
Moving overhead
Write a message in the sky
Saying she is dead
She was my north my south
My east and my west
My working week
And my Sunday rest
My noon my midnight
My talk my song
I thought that love
Would last forever
Well i was wrong
The stars are not wanted
Drown out every one
Pack up the moon
And dismantle the sun
Pour away the ocean
Sweep up the wood
For nothing now
Can come to any good
credits
from J U N C T U R E,
released August 15, 2019
Lyrics - Funeral Blues - W. H. Auden
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