Tamanho do texto:
I liveA in the cemetery, oEl' caretaker Dthey call me, A
in the winteArtime I rake the Eleaves and in the summer I cut the weeds.D A
When a funeralD comes the people cry and pray, A
they bury Etheir dead, then they all go away, A
and here DI work and I somehow hide A
from a world tEhat rushes by outside. A
But eachD night when I rest my head,A
I'm contenteEd as the peaceful deatDh. A
But who'sA gonna cry when old John dies,
whoE's gonna cry when old John dies ?D A
OAnce I was a young man Edashing with the Dgirls, A
now no oAne wants an old man, I lostE my handsome cuDrls. A
But I Dwanna say when my time comes, A
E lay me facing the rising sunA,
puDt me in the corner where I buried my pup, A
tell the preacheEr to pray then cover me up. A
DonD't plant flowers where my head should be, A
mayEbe God would let some grow for me. A
And all Dthe little children that I love like myA own,
will theyE be sorry that old John's Dgone ? A
Who'sA gonna cry when old John dies,
whoE's gonna cry when old John dies ?D A
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