Hank Thompson

The Little Rosewood Casket

In a little Rosewood casket In the hall up-{} on a stand
There's a package of old love letters Written by a true love's hand.
Won't you go and get them,
sister Read them o'er to me tonight I have tried so hard to read them But the tears, they blind my sight.
Place his letters and his picture Both together by my heart With a little ring he gave me
From my finger ne'er shall part.
When I'm dead and in my casket And deep in my grave I live I want to be there close beside him When they lay me down to die.

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