I Will Miss You

Well they say the saints go marching.
When the music comes around.
In a hall with glorious stones that rise up arching.
This place in my mind is where heaven can be found.

I hold this tight for myself more then thy.
What we have takes effort, takes mistakes.
Forced and pushed as weaving your first tie.
But then was comfort, then soul and shakes.

Now a statue we both hold in our pocket.
Forever bound a metal rising rocket.
You appreciate me as other people will.
But I hold closest my soul that you fill.

My friend my brother my astonishing opus.
I wont fail I wont deny this golden compass.
Thankyou not for everything you are to me
but showing me the only heaven I like to be.