Emily copies and pastes:

When I Leave the World Behind

I know a millionaire
Who’s burdened down with care
A load is on his mind
He’s thinking of the day
When he must pass away
And leave his wealth behind

I haven’t any gold
To leave when I grow old
Somehow it passed me by
I’m very poor but still
I’ll leave a precious will
When I must say good-bye

I’ll leave the sunshine to the flowers
I’ll leave the springtime to the trees

And to the old folks, I’ll leave the mem’ries
Of a baby upon their knees

I’ll leave the night time to the dreamers
I’ll leave the songbirds to the blind

I’ll leave the moon above
To those in love
When I leave the world behind

To every wrinkled face
I’ll leave a fireplace
To paint their fav’rite scene
Within the golden rays
Scenes of their childhood days
When they were sweet sixteen

I’ll leave them each a song
To sing the whole day long
As toward the end they plod
To ev’ry broken heart
With sorrow torn apart
I’ll leave the love of God

I’ll leave the sunshine to the flowers
I’ll leave the springtime to the trees

And to the old folks, I’ll leave the mem’ries
Of a baby upon their knees

I’ll leave the night time to the dreamers
I’ll leave the songbirds to the blind

I’ll leave the moon above
To those in love
When I leave the world behind

—Irving Berlin, 1915
(Treat: Hear the Singing Miamians do it in four-part barbershop harmony.)