Make for me a bed
Where I can lay my head
And drown my thoughts and
Cut away my tongue
A bed of river mud
Lent by thankless mountain ice
To the field
Where cheerful children
Made trophies of their wives
Trophies of their wives
All the specimens I am are
Specified to toil
That all the hands and feet are laid
Upon the mattress coil
Upon the mattress coil
Take away for me the bricks
And return them to before
When they were stone and water mixed
And ready to be poured
Ready to be poured
Make for me a bed
Where I can lay my head
And drown my thoughts and
Cut away my tongue
A bed of river mud
A bed of river mud
A bed of river mud
A bed of river mud
A bed of river mud
A bed of river mud
A bed of river mud
A bed of river mud
A bed of river mud
A bed of river mud