6
22
He was my North, my South, my East and West,
My working week and my Sunday rest,
My noon, my midnight, my talk, my song;
I thought that love would last for ever; I was wrong.
The stars are not wanted now: put out every one;
Pack up the moon and dismantle the sun;
Pour away the ocean and sweep up the wood,
For nothing now can ever come to any good.
I tell myself the world can’t be perfect, I start to let myself go.
19
18
Cap: Sorry, Tony, you know I wouldn't do this a had any other choice, but he is my friend!
Tony: So was I!
3
10
— Did you do it?
— Yes.
— What did it cost?
— ...Everything.