Funeral Blues
W.H. Auden

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 woods;
For nothing now can ever come to any good.

Time Of Our Lives
Paul Van Dyk

There's a time for us to let go
There's a time for holding on
A time to speak, a time to listen
There's a time for us to grow

There's a time for laying low down
There's a time for getting high
A time for peace, a time for fighting
A time to live, a time to die

A time to scream, a time for silence
A time for truth against the lie
A time for faith, a time for science
There's a time for us to shine

There's a time for mixed believing
There's a time to understand
A time for hurt, a time for healing
A time to run, and make a stand

This is the time
Of our lives...

É tempo de encerrar uma época, de deixar certas tradições morrerem, de luto pelas perdas mas de alegria pelo início de algo novo.

Pronto, passou...

Mas ainda estou aceitando doações de sorvete de chocolate :)