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Will you remember me
When we are aged 103?
And what will old eyes
See, that would young surprise,
And what will these moments
Now, but gold of old when
I'm but an ancient withered thing?
Gold of old, share my coffer
This treasure chest is what I offer
To lie in, two hearts, priceless both,
To sets of memories, parellel, but
Never ever do they part the same way
Shared, this gold, these times, now,
Would that stretch until we plough
The last, fading grave, into the ground,
And neither will either then make a sound.