When I die don't bury me in the cold grey dirt of the North Country. Cold grey ground, cold grey ground, don't leave me here in the cold grey ground.
I can't fly to Heaven above if I am bound here in this mud. Take me south, carry me there to the red clay that my soul can bear.
Cradle me, cradle me in the warm hills of my family. Blood red stains upon my hands; my Saviour knows me where I stand.
From these hills I will fly when my earthly tears have dried. Mother's face I will behold shining on the streets of gold.
When I die don't bury me in the cold grey dirt of the North Country. Cold grey ground, cold grey ground, don't leave me here in the cold grey ground.
Cold grey ground, cold grey ground, don't leave me here in the cold grey ground. Cold grey ground, cold grey ground, don't leave me here in the cold grey ground.