I sleep amongst the tall, tall flowers,
Where I cannot be seen,
Except by one who darkly cowers
Behind their foliage green.
I seem
To dream,
But what I dream
Is actual fact.
And those who act,
Sincere.
As is the sound
Of trod-on ground
That only I can hear.

“Come out my love, if it is you
Who in the darkness goes.”
No reassurance doth issue,
So I again repose.
I miss
Your kiss
In restful bliss.
It leaves a mark
Which tells of dark-
-er powers
That deftly reap.
Once more I sleep
Amongst the tall, tall flowers.

Reprise

O my darling, how can you doubt me
When I say I’m in your thrall?
For, if you thought to live without me,
I would not live at all.
My tact to act
Was too exact
And now it seems
That what were dreams
Weren’t fake,
But forecasts of
A dream-like love
That keeps me awake.

Take it easy on my heart; it’s all I’ve got.
Woe be me should it begin to clot.
I know that you’re in love,
But still you’re playing awful rough.
Take it easy on my heart; it’s all I’ve got.

Two each only of atrium and ventricle
To pump the plasmic juices through.
I need three hearts which are identical,
Like octopuses do.

Take it easy on my heart; it’s all I’ve got.
Woe be me should it begin to clot.
I know that you’re in love,
But still you’re playing awful rough.
Take it easy on my heart; it’s all I’ve got.

I’d ask Christiaan Bernard: “might this
Strange feeling when you’re with me-ah,
Be some odd form of myocarditis
Mixed with cardiac arrhythmia?”

Take it easy on my heart; it’s all I’ve got.
Woe be me should it begin to clot.
I know that you’re in love,
But still you’re playing awful rough.
Take it easy on my heart; it’s all I’ve got.

Now, I’m not the sorta
guy who’ll usually complain,
But you’re putting my aorta
Under a lot of strain.
And when you only have a
single heart to begin…
Well, I dread my vena cava
Suddenly packing in.

The pumping sounds out through my chest,
Like some middle-distant drumming heard.
All my clogged-up blood vessels are stressed
And my heart-rate’s like a humming birds.

Take it easy on my heart; it’s all I’ve got.
Woe be me should it begin to clot.
I know that you’re in love,
But still you’re playing awful rough.
So please go gentle on my ticker;
The left ventricle wall’s much thicker.
Take it easy on my heart; it’s all I’ve got.

Stop all the clocks… I want to get off
This sad, slow prgress to the grave.
Postpone the coffin and I’ll live with the cough,
As this moment I want to save.
Because time takes you away from me.
I’d prefer you stay with me,
Like Gaugin in Arles with Van Gogh.
In this timeless Idyll,
We need only lie still.
Stop all the clocks… I want to get off.

Stop all the clocks… I want to get out
Of this space/time continuum.
We’ll have time on our hands for fooling about.
I will kiss you til it turns you numb.
Age won’t take its toll,
For we’ll have the whole
Of time to dispose of, no doubt.
Progree won’t trouble
Us inside our bubble.
Stop all the clocks… I want to get off

If life need never change, then would
Repetition bore? Never!
Because practice makes perfect, meaning we could
Love forever.

Stop all the clocks… I want to get off
With you, on a rug, by a fire…
Let them jeer at my dream, let the cynics scoff,
For we’re cheered by a heavenly choir.
Here the plimsole line
On this bottle of wine
Won’t decline, despite what we quaff.
And we can replay
This one night every day
Stop all the clocks… I want to get off.

Outside these walls, the very slings
And arrows of misfortune soar.
Our minds are on much higher things,
We’ll leave these troubling triffles for
Those of you who’d cry and bawl and grieve.
Of this we’d like to stay niave,
So with your hats and coats please leave
Conversation at the door.
No news presents
Current events
Just as they’ve unfurled.
Do come in, kindly shut up and don’t discuss the outside world.

The world may be our oyster
But we’d rather it stay clammed shut
Let’s not roister, let us cloister,
And spare ourselves from Hell-damned smut.
Entrance only goes to those with permits
To this bastion of hermits.
We shan’t let the world get her mitts
On our quiet little rut.
Some strange idea
To fight in Crimea:
Was the latest news we’d heard.
Please come in, do shut up and don’t discuss the outside world.

If you’d spend your life in traction…
To such as that the world is prone.
We’d prescribe, instead, inaction.
Stay with us or stay at home.
It’s not enough to down your sabre;
You must cease action and labour.
To improve life for your neighbour
You should leave them well alone.
Let’s call a truce
On the abuse
That is regularly hurled.
Do come in, please shut up and don’t dicuss the outside world.