Digging graves is my delight
Digging graves for you to lie in
Digging graves from morn' till night
I makes me living from the dying
Digging graves the whole day long
And as I dig I sing this song
To anybody that comes along
Dust to dust and ashes to ashes
And so begins my song
Rich and poor all come the same
I bury you all there's none as favour
Don't spend your life in seeking gain;
No gold from death will ever save you
Mighty men with wealth and riches
Beggars too in rags and stitches;
All end up in the wooden britches
Dust to dust and ashes to ashes
And so my song goes on
Some we bury with foul diseases
Some will die still young and pretty
Death will take just who it pleases
For in death there is no pity
Mangled men with sightless eyes
Babes in arms and maids like wives
Fit or foolish weak or wise
Dust to dust and ashes to ashes
And so I sing my song
You might be dancing in the street
You might be gay you might be grieving
You might be singing a song so sweet
But you'll not cheat death there's no deceiving
In the street or in the hall
Whether you skip or whether you crawl
Death could come any time at all
Dust to dust and ashes to ashes
And so my song goes on
Death come early death come late
It takes us all there is no reason
For every purpose under heaven
To each a turn to each a season
A time to weep and a time to sigh
A time to laugh and a time to cry
A time to be born and a time to die
Dust to dust and ashes to ashes
And so I end my song
Dust To Dust - Martin Carthy
