There was a moment there on Westland Row when a few fleeting drops of rain fell.
It was momentary but, in that moment as the Artane Band led the funeral cortege with a marching tune, it seemed as if life was imitating Shane MacGowan's art.
The words of his song Sally MacLennane never seemed more apt as those who gathered were marching him "to the station in the rain ... and sang him a song of times long gone".
Before that the tone was more reverential and poignant as the band delicately delivered perfect renditions of Fairytale of New York and A Rainy Night in Soho when the funeral procession paused in the middle of Dublin.
This was no hushed sombre goodbye though.
People who had seen him perform at the height of his powers were there lining the streets for this last act in the journey.
So too were school children and even the very young were pushed in prams.
Some held up posters saying, 'goodbye Shane,’ others had black and white pictures of the signer, and one man carried a newspaper front page marking his death.
It read: "Shane you had the measure of our dreams."
As they waited to bid him adieu there was chatter and songs.
One moment you could hear the sounds of A Pair of Brown Eyes drifting gently from the top of the street, seconds later people spoke about his performances on stage.
The general feeling was that even if some of the live shows faltered on occasions, Shane MacGowan’s songs never will.
Sometimes legacy is slowly unfurled over time, but in the case of the Pogues singer it was obvious immediately.
No sooner had his tricolour-clad coffin rounded the bend for Fenian Street when the singing and the music resumed.
This time the musicians playing outside Sweny's sang Dirty Old Town followed by Fairytale once again.
The crowd stayed and sang some more, people leaned out of windows from the tall period buildings overlooking what was unfolding, most were pointing their phones in the direction of the music.
At ground level too there were cameras everywhere, all trying to cast this extraordinary moment in amber.
When it ended the words of another poet came to mind, those of Siegfried Sassoon.
A war poet whose allegiances were different to those of Shane MacGowan, but the two men both had a clear grasp of the chaos of humanity.
His poem Everyone Sang ends with the line, "the singing will never be done".
And it never will when there are Shane MacGowan songs to be sung.
For that we say, thank you Shane.
