alternate takes

Funeral Blues and Celebration of Life, Rocks

Funeral Blues by W.H. Auden

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 over overhead
Scribbling on the sky the message He Is Dead,
Put crepe bows round the 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.

Celebration of Life, Rocks inspired with love by Sean Patrick Ryan (1985-2006)
by Tom Ryan, delivered at Sean's funeral

Set your alarm clocks, recharge your phones,
Play with the dogs; give them cookies and bones,
Turn up the music with backbeat drum,
Dance with me, all you people. Come!

Release bunches of balloons, let them float overhead,
Raise your hands to the sky and shake your head.
Put bright colored ribbons on the neighborhood trees,
Let the traffic cops wear yellow shorts and bare their wrinkly knees.

I’ll be your North, your South, your East and West,
Your working week, your Sunday rest,
Your noon, your midnight, your talk, our song.
I know that love lasts forever and this ain’t wrong.

I’ll be a new star and I’ll brighten every one.
I’ll dust off the moon and polish the sun
Glide across oceans and float through the woods
Life is beautiful, life is good.