Have you seen my husband?
You’d know him if you had.
He’s known around old London Town,
Most people think he's mad.
My husband, he talks with angels,
And with spirits that he can see.
He passes time with the divine,
But not so much with me.

But I held him when he faltered,
When earth and faith did shake,
And on my grave the words will say:
“I believed you, William Blake.”

We scraped by in the shadows,
Sown with pity and with scorn.
The great and good, they never could
Recognise a prophet born.
With poetry and engravings,
He presented paradise.
He revealed to them a Jerusalem
They would not recognise.

Mr William Blake,
There’s one promise you must make:
Dear William, if you're right
About life on the other side, about paradise,
Then you must promise me
That you won’t leave me when you leave
This world that didn’t believe.
Be a comfort to your wife:
She gave you up her one and only certain life.
Don’t you leave me in my grave;
I believed you William Blake.
I'll be with you, damned or saved;
Don’t you leave me in my grave;
I believed you William Blake.