Knowing when you’re in love is just as hard as knowing when you’re not.
I struggled with it four years ago, and finally realized what I got.
I’d see pretty faces walk by, and never pay them a thought.
But now that you’re gone, those pretty faces remind me of who I lost.

By the time you hear this song I’ll be gone.
I’ll be gone.

By the time you hear this song my love, I’ll be dead and gone.
Old age has taken me now; my thoughts of you are lost.
There’ll be no more weeds for butterflies like you to land on.
There’ll be no more shoulders like mine for your pretty face to lean on.

By the time you hear this song I’ll be gone.
I’ll be gone.

The sweet smell on the pillow where my heavy head took its rest and where it lay,
Reminded me of the last time your gentle heart, within my bed stayed.
But as your scent fades away my thoughts of you remain.

By the time you hear this song I’ll be gone.
I’ll be gone

(Carman, BMI)