Would you miss me when I'm gone,When fortuneless life runs its course,And nights embrace holds me close,Should life's due course runs down,And fate demands a person go,Whether natrually or by their own hand. Struck down like a bird in flight,And plummets down to lower air,The huntsman's hand takes lifeAnd animal fear his whim,As, like fate, he takes the life,Which falls, a leaf, from rotten bough. So once more I ask gain,Would you miss me when I'm gone?