They tell me you have gone away and never will return. They tell me life is ended and it cannot be repaired By use of thread and needle, and they tell me I must learn That things must have an ending, never mind if it be fair. And they tell me that the boy I knew has died an aged man I'm just a bear of little brain I do not understand.

So in the woods we gather as we did in better years Eeyore and Owl stand silent, with Kanga, Rabbit and Roo, And Tigger's stopped his bouncing, Piglet's eyes are glazed with tears, They look to me for comfort as if I know what to do. And it's then we see him standing there, beneath the hunny-tree. And for this bear of little brain some things seem meant to be. For Christopher and old Pooh Bear some things will ever be.