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