Scoutscan.com 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
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