"Do you still see me even here?"
(The silver cord lies on the ground.)
"And so I'm dead", the young man said
Over the hill (not a wish away)
My friends (as one) all stand aligned
Although their taxis came too late
There was a rush along the Fulham Road
There was a hush in the Passion Play

Such a sense of glowing in the aftermath
Ripe with rich attainments all imagined
Sad misdeeds in disarray
The sore thumb screams aloud
Echoing out of the Passion Play
All the old familiar choruses come crowding in a different key...
Melodies decaying in sweet dissonance
There was a rush along the Fulham Road
Into the Ever-passion Play

And who comes here to wish me well?
A sweetly-scented angel fell
She laid her head upon my disbelief
And bathed me with her ever-smile
And with a howl across the sand
I go escorted by a band of gentlemen in leather bound
NO-ONE (but someone to be found)