When the ground opens up
And swallows my still body whole
I don't think I will remember
The lust of the girls I have had.

When the reaper slowly knocks on my door
And I welcome him, knowing my fate
I don't think I will remember
What they thought about me.

When my skin no longer holds form
And I can't find the mind to fret about it
I don't think I will remember
The possessions I had in my home.

But as I lay there, on the cold pavement
battered and bruised, sick and weary,
I know I will remember
The tear that left your eye.
The smile that faded to a cry.
The hair that was disheveled in your face.
The wail that could stop the heart of 1,000 men.
The weary look that killed me in a way death never could.

So I murmur,
please don't cry,
mi amor,
for I have not died yet,
and although you want to be sad,
know that I'm here,
with you,
until time fades like the waves of the sea.

P.S.-
And if we should be so lucky,
To meet again,
In a new life or the next,
Know that I will embrace you
Soul to soul, Chest to chest.