The poem
When I'm killed, don't think of me Buried there in Cambrin Wood, Nor as in Zion think of me With the Intolerable Good. And there's one thing that I know well, I'm damned if I'll be damned to Hell!
So when I'm killed, don't wait for me, Walking the dim corridor; In Heaven or Hell, don't wait for me, Or you must wait for evermore. You'll find me buried, living-dead In these verses that you've read.
So when I'm killed, don't mourn for me, Shot, poor lad, so bold and young, Killed and gone - don't mourn for me. On your lips my life is hung: O friends and lovers, you can save Your playfellow from the grave.
ENGLISH OR SOMETHING
Basically saying that he lives on in a way through this poem. Its the one way he can still be alive, even in death.