When we die, no one remembers us for what we weighed. Our weight isn't etched into our headstones.
Row after row with strict impunity The headstones yield their names to the element, The wind whirrs without recollection.
As life runs on, the road grows strange with faces new - and near the end. The milestones into headstones change, Neath every one a friend.
The days grow shorter, the nights grow longer, The headstones thicken along the way; And life grows sadder, but love grows stronger For those who walk with us day by day.