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I dug you up this morning
and took you home,
to have you here beside me,
cold but close.
I made my mind up last night,
that heaven just can't have you.
I made you breakfast but you would not eat,
so I took your black dress off and washed you clean.
I made mind up last night that heaven just can' have you.
The sheets are creased
from your last day,
a silhouette of where you lay.
They'll find your headstone in the yard,
with your black dress and my guitar.
I'll carry you back to your grave
where you and I will always stay.
Close the casket it gets dark;
they'll find us in each other's arms….
