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