I need to find this
When, the night we’ve exhausted,
In thorns I awake-
Was this really the bed that I made?-
Well, you’re throwing down roses
Upon where I am laid-
You don’t seem to think I could ever be saved.
So, just leave me lying,
I can dig my own grave.
And put on your coat, and your hat.
Well, that’s that.
With a sigh and a hopeful grin
A new day can begin.