I dug you up this morning and took you home, to have you here beside me, cold but close. I made my mind up last night, that heaven just can't have you. I made you breakfast but you would not eat, so I took your black dress off and washed you clean. I made mind up last night that heaven just can' have you. The sheets are creased from your last day, a silhouette of where you lay. They'll find your headstone in the yard, with your black dress and my guitar. I'll carry you back to your grave where you and I will always stay. Close the casket it gets dark; they'll find us in each other's arms….