IRC-Galleria

"I live in the cemetery ol' 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 and they all go away.
But through their grief I still can see their hate
and greed and jealousy.

So here I work and I somehow hide from a world that
rushes by outside. And 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 when old John dies?

Once I was a young man dashing with the girls.
Now no one wants an old man, I lost my handsome curls.
But I wanna say when my time comes lay me facing the
rising sun. Put me in the 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 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.

Who's gonna cry when old John dies, who's gonna cry when old John dies"?

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I cried Johnny, I cried <3