Once I thought I spied both your shadows
crawling along these walls
tell me, how do you think the world looked
when they heard your last song:
gone dead and dry on the paths both of you once walked,
I want to know what the ferryman said
when both of you came to his boat
holding hands like lost brothers
journeying towards the long winding road.
So many times we love too much
when we ought not have loved,
and in the end
too much of it kills us all.
God only knows what Lennon and Gaye must have thought when they passed this way.