What care I for the purest white rose,
Placed in my cold stiff hand;
What care do I for the words of praise,
When I can't understand.
When I can't understand, oh love,
When I can't understand;
What care do I for the words of praise,
When I can't understand.
I care not for the flowers heaped in wreaths
Upon my mound;
I cannot scent their fragrance sweet.
When I'm beneath the ground,
When I'm beneath the ground, oh love,
When I'm beneath the ground;
I cannot scent their fragrance sweet,
When I'm beneath the ground.
What goods will deeds of honor do
Above my lifeless form;
When I am anchored in the vale,
Safe sheltered from the storm;
Oh, give to me my roses now,
Kind words of love I crave;
Wait not 'til death has taken me,
And I am in my grave;
And I am in my grave, oh love,
And I am in my grave;
Wait not 'til death has taken me,
And I am in my grave.
Beyond the lonely silent tomb,
I hope to find sweet rest;
Speak now the words of comfort brought,
And calm my troubled breast;
Wait not 'til death has taken me,
Alas, it'll be too late;
For I will not need your songs of praise,
When I'm once beyond the grave,
When I'm once beyond the grave, oh love,
When I'm once beyond the grave;
I will not need your songs of praise,
When I'm once beyond the grave.
