I'm sorry. Some things I refuse to believe. He couldn't have been 83. That stunning, mad, sparkling mind couldn't have been extinguished even before he boarded the Great Glass Wonkevator this last time. Not that one more thing, right now.
I made it reasonably well through the song above, sung with fervor and really very well by an ensemble called Voices of Gotham. The clip below, though... well, I don't recommend it for anyone who'd like to keep composed this melancholy Monday evening, not, at least, if you were a child somewhere in the Western world 40-odd years ago.
They go so fast, the ones touched by tenderness and sometimes a spark of genius.
There is no Life I know
To compare with Pure imagination;
Living there You'll be free -
If you truly wish to be.
If only it were true: "We have so much time, and so little to do!"