Cypress Grove

I would rather be buried in some cypress grove

I would rather be buried in some cypress grove

Then have a contrary woman, Lord, that I can't control

When your kneebone get shaky, honey, and your blood run cold

When your kneebone gettin' shaky, Lord, and your blood run cold

Oh, you're gettin' ready, honey, for the cypress grove

Lord, I'd rather be buried six feet in the clay

I would rather to be buried six feet in the clay

Then to stay round here breathin' this a-way

I would drink muddy water, sleep in a hollow log

I would drink muddy water, sleep in a hollow log

Then to lay around here treated like a dog

I'm gonna sing this song, ain't gonna sing no more

I'm gonna sing this song, ain't gonna sing no more

My time is getting precious, honey, and I got to go