William Elliott Whitmore
Pine Box
In a box made of pine lays the sweet love of mineshe's been gone for nearly a yearThe river would overflowif only I could trade a raindrop for every tearIt was the year of ought one and our life had begunno perils could make us distraughtTogether we stood through bad and through goodno hardships that couldn't be foughtShe fell ill one dark winter's nightand before too long the passedIt would prove to be true my whole life throughthat nothing good would lastIt all ended that day when I saw her ride awayin the back of that long black hearseI remember so well my personal hellbegan on this here EarthI've half the heart I used to have and half the will to go onI've got half a mind to drink myself blindnow that my darlin' is goneNow the winter's teeth are biting downand it chills me to the boneTo think about that cold mattressand sleeping all aloneSo now I know what I must dothe path ahead of me is clearI must join her now wherever she's at'cause I ain't doin' no good here
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