Do we take our love to the lonesome grave?
Does it endure as we pass on?
Does it a way, for our souls, pave?
When I die, will my love for you be gone?
Do not fret, my dear, for our love was deep
When we lived on Mother Earth
So deep was it that angels weep
And heaven knows no mirth
But, were you to pass over without that love,
would the heavens mourn us more?
Our admiration came from far above,
That love, from our souls poured
So, if my love comes from my spirit
Then heaven shall surely know of it
And the hosts will sing forever on
Of the love that the heart of heaven won