cash, johnny
i live in the cemetery
'old caretaker' they call me
in the wintertime i rake the leaves
and in the summer i cut the weeds
when a funeral comes
the people cry and pray
they bury their dead
then they all go away
and here i work
and i somehow hide
from a world that rushes
by outside
but each night
when i rest my head
i'm contented
as the peaceful death
but who's gonna cry
when old john dies?
who's gonna cry
once i was a young man
dashing with the girls
now no one wants an old man
when i lost my handsome curls
but i wanna say
when my time comes
lay me facin'
the rising sun
put me in a corner
where i buried my pup
tell the preacher to pray
then cover me up
don't lay flowers
where my head should be
maybe god would
let some grow for me
and all the little children
that i love like my own
will they be sorry
that old john's gone?