'the time has come', he said
With talk of cabbages and kings
He died in bed
And though he seemed unsure
The walrus in him knew the place
And asked no more
Tall sister shakes her head
No need to hear the voice
In tones of measured lead
And waiting by the door
The next in line will close his eyes
He won't wait

As the reel of age unwinds
Upon the floor the perfect frames
Are hard to find
Editing the sense from senseless
All forces too intense
Are fossilized in white
Seen through a looking-glass
Some madmen know the truth
While fools won't dare to ask
'the time has come', he said
With talk of cabbages and kings
He died in bed and asked no more

While sunk in memories
He kept no promises to mend his broken ways
No last ditch piety
To send him honestly into some empty space
My hand against the sky
With fingers spread, another tree
Though half as wise
Seen through a looking-glass
Some madmen know the truth
While fools won't dare to ask what times will come