Song Database

Joe Hill

My will is easy to decide,
For I have nothing to devide
My kin won't have to weep and moan, 
Moss does not cling to a rolling stone.
My body, Oh if I should choose, 
Would turn to ashes and reduce,
And let the gentle breezes blow,
To where perhaps a flower grow
And perhaps a faded flower then 
Would spring to life and bloom again
This is my last and final will, 
Good Luck to all of you, Joe Hill