I want to cling to your poem
I am  falling into an
abyss in my dream

Carry some cremated human ashes

with you, always.

It will remind you that life

however gloriously or ingloriously

lived will end in ashes.

He couldn't help it about the shape he was in. He couldn't sing , he wasn't pretty , and his legs were thin . "Oh Well" . No amount of "Black Magic Women" will bring him back again .
Now the "Albatross" glides over the sea of tranquility into the sunset .