Who will I write my letters to now you’ve sailed away
Who will answer from the distance of your wandering footsteps keeping time
Who will play the melody to my songs when finally I sing again
Who will recollect the pictures when so few occupied spaces in your mind
Who will I believe you’d become over hardened years
Who will I invite for our reunion when will and courage align
Who was it I imagined could hold on to some thinning thread between
Who was it in the room to notice your slow graceless fall
Who was it you liked to call your only friend
Who was it called your number disconnected
Who was it arrived to knock at a pale door where life had fled
Who is it hears your song playing long and wan and deep in the after
Who is it captures your drawings in this wooden frame
Who is it plants white lilies on your lonesome grave
Who is it remembers the proper spelling of your name
