Remember me in five short years, when I'll be long gone from this place.
When the air turns bittersweet and strong, and there will be no changes on my face.
Remember me in fifteen years, exactly half of our long lives.
Maybe you'll have one or two kids, maybe even a beautiful wife.
Remember me in thirty years, when you've reached your mid-life crisis.
Plant some flowers on our hill, the color of my eyes, blueish iris.
Remember me in fifty years, when my hair has turned to white.
When I'm getting old and so are you, but for now we'll be alright.
Remember me in one hundred years, long after both of is have perished.
You'll tell your children tales of us, ones that we'd have cherished.
Remember me forever and on, every second, minute, hour.
It's a shame our love didn't grow with us, but thank god it grew in the flowers.