Stop all the clocks

Stop all the clocks
Cut off the telephone
Prevent the dog from barking with a juicy bone
Silence the pianos with a 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 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 forever
I was wrong

"Say goodnight Jack."

"Goodnight, Jack."

"Goodnight, Sassafras."