Scraps of songs that you sort of half-know They're slow to leave and perhaps the last's A three-note theme on a toy piano You are the music while the music lasts You lose the song that the phrase is from You search your mind and you find the past's A humming top moving further from you You are the music while the music lasts Remembering couldn't make your grief less Or the tune as sweet as it sounded then A xylophone thrown away half-leafless A tinkling toy that won't roll again The circus packs up with the dawning Light, the poles like harbour masts Falling wires and a whistled warning The sound of trucks in the early morning You are the music while the music lasts You are the music while the music lasts
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