All my friends are dead,
it’s just they don’t know that yet.
They’re still haunting me,
refuse to rest in peace.
Don’t you know it’s all right
to give up the ghost and forfeit this fight?
You’re six feet below, dressed in fine white.
Make yourself at home, it’ll be a long time.
All my loves are long gone,
but each left behind her song
singing me to sleep,
much too sweet to leave me be.
Don’t you know it’s okay
to let sleeping dogs lie where they may?
I dug my own hole, and that’s where I’ll stay,
so give up the ghost and drift on away.
Drift away, drift away, drift away from me.