Wonderful things of folks are said
After they've passed away.
Roses adorn the narrow bed
Over the sleeping clay.
Give me the roses while I live
Trying to cheer me on.
Useless are flowers that you give
After the soul is gone.
Praises are heard not by the dead,
Roses they ne'er can see.
Let us not wait til souls are fled
Generous friends to be.
Give me the roses while I live
Thoughts are forgiven when folks lie cold,
Cold in that narrow bed.
Let us forgive them e'er they die.
Now should these words be said.
Give me the roses while I live