Song picture
Funeral Blues (W.H.Auden)-BMP84
Poem by W.H. Auden
alternative pop rock romantic french poetic francais grenoble unsafe area
Drifting iceberg A piece of ice floe With well-kept secrets beneath the surface of the water
Guitarist among other things, composer in these hours, traveler. From here and there, some charitable artists give me a helping hand, and I thank them all for their help. THANKS I hope to present two new titles to you shortly, then I'm off to admire the Pamirs from the road...
Song Info
Genre
Rock • Rock General
Uploaded
November 04, 2025
Track Files
MP3
MP3 3.7 MB • 128 kbps • 4:05
Lyrics
Funeral blues 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.
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