My life is measured in the songs I sing to, treasured memories in every line.
These I will miss, when at last I lay down in my time.
Dying slow, as we all are, I gather these notes to my heart
Could I ever let them go, sleep the dreamless sleep in part?
Ah, sadness furrows my brow when I think of that.
More than anything in this world that I lack,
Their loss would grieve me unceasing,
At the moment of this body’s releasing.