I’ll remember you when I wear skinny jeans,
when I eat a burrito or Mexican beans.
I’ll remember you when I look at old photographs.
I’ll remember you every time I hear him laugh.

I’ll remember you when I serve our special dish
and when I find an eyelash and can make a wish.
I’ll remember you when I get drowned by the rain.
I’ll remember the laughter, the love, and the pain.

I’ll remember you when I pick up my guitar
and every time I get into my car.
I’ll remember you when the sun lights up the sky
I’ll remember you when the last star starts to die.

I’ll remember you when I must pick up the slack,
and I’ll remind myself that you’re not coming back.
I’ll remember you even when you forget me.
How’s that for a memory?