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• Artiste: William Elliott Whitmore
• Titre: Pine Box
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In a box made of pine lays the sweet love of mine she's been gone for nearly a year The river would overflow if only I could trade a raindrop for every tear It was the year of ought one and our life had begun no perils could make us distraught Together we stood through bad and through good no hardships that couldn't be fought She fell ill one dark winter's night and before too long the passed It would prove to be true my whole life through that nothing good would last It all ended that day when I saw her ride away in the back of that long black hearse I remember so well my personal hell began on this here Earth I've half the heart I used to have and half the will to go on I've got half a mind to drink myself blind now that my darlin' is gone Now the winter's teeth are biting down and it chills me to the bone To think about that cold mattress and sleeping all alone So now I know what I must do the path ahead of me is clear I must join her now wherever she's at 'cause I ain't doin' no good here