You’re asking how long will I love you,

until eagle forget how to fly. 

Till grass doesn’t grow in the meadow,

Till a child that is lost doesn’t cry 

Till the sun doesn’t rise in the morning,

or set at the close of the day. 

Till spring flowers bloom in December,

and Christmas comes sometime in May. 

Till small brooks don’t feed hungry rivers,

and rivers don’t rush to the sea. 

Till this road we call life has it ending,

and time simple ceases to be. 

Till flowers lose all of their fragrance,

till spring dawn grass is not wet with dew, 

Darling that is how long you will be my hearts song,

that’s how long I’ll go on love you.

 

 

Don McAdam