The world's gone beautiful because it's about to die. I never saw such flower faces or so intent a sky. I never heard such lines from horns or violins, Or saw such lavish girls, such dandy boys, And I know why. It's that the world is asking not to die. I never saw such hands flexing like silver leaves, I never knew such air, or leaned to so good a breeze. Even the tears I cry, they aren't salt but clear, For sea birds riding the wind calling their last, Their wild goodbye. The world is asking not to die. I want to hold this world and never let it go, I want the sun to always rise on the kids next door. Whether I go or stay, that question still abides, Posed by rainbows in the river spray. What answer do you give A world that asks so bitterly to live?