Never, oh! never, nothing will die.

Goodbye to all my friends at home
Goodbye to people I've trusted
I've got to go out and make my way
I might get rich you know I might get busted
But my heart keeps calling me backwards
As I get on the 707
Ridin' high I got tears in my eyes
You know you got to go through hell
Before you get to heaven [Jet Airliner]

Stop all the clocks, cut off the telephone,
Prevent he 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 crêpe 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.
 
Funeral Blues. W.H.Auden

Plugs. Morrissey. Johnny Depp. Black. Weird. Poe.

Flowes. Pastels. Pale. Moustaches.

Each night I cry, I still believe the lie
I'll love you tilI die
 
~Queen.

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I went to the woods because I wanted to live deliberately. I wanted to live deep and suck out all the marrow of life.
To put to rout all that was not life; and not, when I had come to die, discover that I had not lived. ~Dead poets society.