My children will live on
when I am in the earth.
When I am dead and gone,
they’ll meet with merry mirth
each Christmas, and they’ll raise
a toast or two to me;
a thought or two they’ll think
of how I used to be.
My children will survive
when I am dust and dreams,
when I’m no more alive
than silent, sleeping streams.
At Easter time they’ll talk
to bring me back to life.
And on a lonely walk
they\'ll talk about my wife.
Back home, they may recall
our lost and wasted years.
Our photo on the wall
may bring them all to tears!