He taught me all's wrong when you think it's all good

Stop all the clocks, 

cut off the lines of the telephone, 

Prevent the dog from barking 

with a meaty bone, 

Silence the pianos.. 

and with a muffled drum, 

Throw out the memories, 

And let the heartache come. 

Let aeroplanes circle, 

moaning over my head 

Scribbling on the sky, 

the lies which I was fed, 

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. 

...I think that heartache lasts forever, 

I hope I'm wrong. 

I don't want the stars now: 

put out every one; 

Pack up this moon 

Then dismantle the sun; 

Pour away the ocean 

and sweep up the wood. 

He taught me all's wrong when you think it's all good*