Текст песни My Love Lies In the Ground - Tim O'Brien

My love lies in the cold, cold ground
In a grave not one week old
To kiss once more your cold, cold lips
I'd give my weight in gold, gold
I'd give my weight in gold

I can't see clear to leave your side
I never more will roam
I'll make my bed upon your grave
A pillow from your stone, stone
A pillow from your stone

There is no fire can warm me now
No blanket made of down
The warmth I feel is from your soul
Seepin' through the ground, ground
Seepin' through the ground

And I do not want a house of gold
Or a cold dark cave
I'll make my home in the musty soil
That lies around your grave, grave
That lies around your grave

I can't abide their laughter
It cuts me like a blade
I prefer the night owl call
And the rhythm of my spade, spade
The rhythm of my spade

Soon I'll be at your side
Apart we'll never be
And I won't hear those above
That make a fool of me, me
That make a fool of me