goodbye blue sky

Stop all the clocks, cut offf 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 the aeroplanes circle moaning overhead
scribbling out 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 my West
my working week and my Sunday rest
my noon, my midn night, my talk, my song,
I thought that love will last forever, I was wrong

The stars are not wanted now, put out everyone
pack up the moon, and dismantle the sun
pour away the ocean and sweap up the wood
for nothing now can ever come to any good -W.H. Auden

words are no longer required