prevent the dog from barking with a juicy bone
silence the piano and muffle the drum
bring out the coffin let the mourners come
let aeroplanes circle moaning overhead
scribbling in the sky the message She is dead
put crêpe bows round the white necks of the public doves
let the traffic policemen wear black cotton gloves
She was my north my south my east my west
my working week and my sunday rest
my noon my midnight my talk my song
I thought love would 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 sweep up the wood
for nothing now can ever come to any good..
my beloved grandma is gone
..heading north again soon, this time for the funeral...
