Im 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 were in 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 to scatter with the dust in the breeze And who will stand before the world Knowing what to say When the very last survivor--fades away" When i hold my grandson close to me And his fingers trace the pattern of my tears He asks me granpa, tell me why do you cry What is it that you fear And i tell him there once was another child Who smelled as sweet and felt as warm But he was taken from before my eyes And only i remain to mourn "What will become of all the memories Are they to scatter with the dust and the breeze And who will stand before a world That now wishes to deny How will they believe in someone Who never heard the cries" There is nothing i can say or do to make things change Time has a way of passing by so fast Like a fleeting shadow no one will recall The faces of the past "What will become of all the memories Are they to scatter with the dust and the breeze Yet one thought gives me comfort Its all that i have left Oh i know that god in heaven Wont forget"