| I talk to the people that lie beneath these stones
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| Imagining they listen makes me feel less alone
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| I pick up the broken flowers, sometimes I dig a hole
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| Welcome in the new ones, introduce 'em to the old
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| I can use a chisel and polisher the same
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| I’ll put anything you’d like to say under a name
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| I’ll put on my suit, make sure my tie is straight
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| Lend a hand to the mourning, send the loved ones on their way
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| Well I ain’t afraid to die 'cause I know where I’ll go
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| There I’ll live forever on the streets made of gold
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| 'Til then I’ll keep on working, you won’t hear me complain
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| And every day I’ll tip my hat to the rock that says my name
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| Well I hired on out of high school in 1968
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| My wife and I picked out a spot right up by the gate
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| It ain’t much but every morning the sun shines on that ground
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| One of these days when I clock out, that’s where I’m a-layin' down
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| Well I ain’t afraid to die 'cause I know where I’ll go
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| There I’ll live forever on the streets made of gold
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| 'Til then I’ll keep on working, you won’t hear me complain
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| And every day I’ll tip my hat to the rock that says my name
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| Born in Alabama
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| Year 1−9-5−0
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| Throw the dirt on top of me
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| Sow the seeds and let it grow
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| Well I ain’t afraid to die 'cause I know where I’ll go
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| There I’ll live forever on the streets made of gold
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| 'Til then I’ll keep on working, you won’t hear me complain
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| And every day I’ll tip my hat to the rock that says my name
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| Some day when I’m under it I hope you’ll do the same
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| Stop by sometime, tip your hat to the rock that says my name
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| Lay not up for yourselves treasures upon earth
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| Where moth and rust doth corrupt
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| And where thieves break through and steal
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| But lay up for yourselves treasures in heaven
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| Where neither moth nor rust doth corrupt
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| And where thieves do not break through nor steal
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| For where your treasure is, there will your heart be also |