| If I die in the winter send roses
|
| In the spring, magnolias
|
| If I’m called in the summer or in the fall
|
| Best of all — bring me a wildflower bouquet
|
| In the dirt and clay don’t lay me down
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| And stare at a cold lonely hole in the ground
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| When I go to my Maker in smoke and ash
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| It won’t be your grief I crave
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| Your tears will not be necessary
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| Build a blazing fire, drink something merry
|
| When the sparks fly off into the wind
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| That will be me blowing away
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| Bury my ashes with the dogs I’ve loved
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| My faithful companions from God above
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| And ‘neath a sycamore we’ll grow strong
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| And the roots will bear us away
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| If my one true Love should join me there
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| Mother nature soon will be aware
|
| That sycamore will thrum and sing
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| And we’ll have left it that way
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| So I don’t want you to feel sorry
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| God knows how I despise your pity
|
| And I’ll no longer bear the weight of worry
|
| Those angry robes all fall away
|
| I’ll be singing loud and laughing long
|
| A blaze of glory and an untold song
|
| So there’s no need for tears my friend
|
| Just bring a wildflower bouquet
|
| If I die in the winter send roses
|
| In the springtime, magnolias
|
| If I’m called in the summer or in the fall
|
| Best of all — bring me a wildflower bouquet
|
| Best of all — bring me a wildflower bouquet |