Where do the dead go?

Where do the dead go?
The faces of our youth
They are here no more.
Strange, is it not?
Just yesterday it seemed,
We were playing under the same sun with the same dreams.
Now they are gone,
Forever lost,
Fallen to the chimes of the ever spinning clock.
To meet again, maybe we will,
In a different world, with different dreams.
The time will come,
When I will feel the cold.
Only then will I know,
Where do the dead go?