Wonderful things of folks are said When they have passed away Roses adorn the narrow bed Over the sleeping clay 
Chorus Give me the roses while I live Trying to cheer me on Useless are flowers that you give After the soul is gone 
Praises are heard not by the dead Roses they cannot see Let us not wait till souls have fled Generous friends to be 
Faults are forgiven when folks lie Cold in the narrow bed Let us forgive them ere they die Now should the words be said 
file from: www.traditionalmusic.co.uk 
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