Bury Me Not On The Lone Prairie (Marc Ribot)
"O bury me not on the lone prairie"
These words came low and mournfully
From the pallid lips of the youth who lay
On his dying bed at the end of the day
"It matters not", I've often been told
"Where the body lies when the heart grows cold"
But grant, o grant, this wish to me
And bury me not on the lone prairie
I've always wished that when I die
To be buried there on the green hillside
By my father's grave, there let mine be
And bury me not on the lone prairie
"O bury me not", and his voice failed there
But we took no heed of his dying prayer
In a narrow grave, barely six by three
They buried him there on the lone prairie
