Paroles de What Will Become Of All The Memories

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 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 As I hold my grandson close to me And his fingers trace the pattern of my tears He asks me "Grandpa, Tell me why do you cry... What is it that you fear?" Oh 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 in the breeze And who will stand before a world that now wishes to deny Will they believe in someone, who never heard the cries What can I say or do to make things change? Time has a way of passing by so fast And as 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 in the breeze Yet one thought gives me comfort, it's all that I have left I know that God and the children... They won't forget! We won't forget! Please, Don't forget!