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.
The sheets are creased from your last day, a silhouette of where you laid. They'll find your headstong 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. I close the casket, it gets dark, they'll find us in each others arms.