When I’m Gone

When I’m gone, when I’m gone,
what will happen to my songs
when I’m gone, when I’m gone?

Will they make it to the children
who seem to pick up what remains.
Will they make it through the valley
or just slide down the drain.
When I’m gone, when I’m gone,
what will happen to my songs
when I’m gone, when I’m gone?

Will they be sung some other morning?
Will they be played when I go?
Will they be hummed? Will you do this for me
friends I’ll never know…..
When I’m gone, when I’m gone,
what will happen to my songs
when I’m gone, when I’m gone?

I don’t want them to just be paper.
A folded and dusty trail
which few may take to find me.
‘Cause those few may fail.
When I’m gone, when I’m gone,
what will happen to my songs
when I’m gone, when I’m gone?