See the thinning people, a skinny people
Dying at an alarming rate.
An afflicted people, like you and I people
Cut down by the hand of fate.
You search to remember who it was that had infected you
Between the blur of years and lovers only God knows who.

--Do you remember when, making love was not a sin
and the growing old was something afforded you?
--Will you remember me, when I am just a memory?
Because dying young is never a dream come true!

We await a cure which may never come
While sinking by the way-side.
As the light of hope fades away for some
We amass along their graveside.
You search to remember who it was that had infected you
It does not matter anymore, that person is dying too!

--Do you remember when, making love was not a sin
and the growing old was something afforded you? 
--Will you remember me, when I am just a memory?
Because dying young is never a dream come true!

I will remember you, so young at heart and in body too...
because having AIDS is never a dream come true.