Stop all the clocks cut off telephone Prevent dog from barking with a juicy bone Silence pianos and muffled drum Bring out coffin let mourners come. Let aeroplanes circle moaning overhead Scribbling on sky message He Is Dead Put crepe bows round white necks of public doves traffic policemen wear black cotton gloves. was my North South East West My working week Sunday rest noon midnight talk song I thought that love would last for ever: wrong. The stars are not wanted now: put every one Pack up moon dismantle sun Pour away ocean sweep wood For nothing now can ever come to any good.