Collaboration Datasheet

Funeral Blues

Cover image


Track Title: Funeral Blues
Description: Feel free to improve upon the existing instrumentation or use my vocal to come up with something entirely different.
Mood: Inconsolable, Mourning
Genre: Original Score, Soundtrack
  • C Minor
  • 85 bpm
Originally Published: Jul 1, 2016
Song Administration: Roo
Licensing: For licensing or other information, contact the Song Administrator.

MicrophoneFuneral 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 forever: 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.


Ryan LucasAuthor/Composer

CopyrightSound Recording

Owner NameWebsite
Ryan Lucas

Performance, Production, Writing, and Other Credits

Artist NameCreditWebsite
Ryan LucasVocals
Misc.Cover Photography
Ryan LucasComposition
W. H. AudenLyrics

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