Field of Marigolds Songtext
von Gayle Skidmore

Big, black limousine
You carry me to the edge of dreams
Posies for the dead
I gathered them from the weeds in my head

A field of marigolds
A story told by the wise and old
A hand I thought I′d hold 'til my body′s cold
But it's buried over the river


Ravens on a wire
Watching this transpire
With their eyes afire
Ticker-tape parade
Confetti tears in the stifling shade

A field of marigolds
A story told by the wise and old
A hand I thought I'd hold ′til my body′s cold
But it's buried over the river

Come on, mourners, wailing mothers
Ashes on your head
Cross upon your breast
Come on, Lonely, this is only what we can expect
We′ll all eventually fall down dead

In a field of marigolds
There'll be stories told by the wise and old
And the hands we thought we would hold will be shovelling earth


As we′re buried over the river