I'm a very tired old, and worn-out man And my eyes have long been blind Most things that people say to me Just seem to slip my mind Oh, but the suffering and painful times That weren't years long gone Are still as clear upon my memory As the numbers on my arm What will become of all the memories Are they too scattered with the dust in the breeze Who will stand before the world Knowing what to say When the very last survivor Fades away What will become of all the memories Are they too scattered with the dust in the breeze Yet one thought gives me comfort Its all I have left Oh, I know that G-d in heaven Won't forget