I live in the cemetery, "Ol' caretaker" they call me
In the wintertime, I rake the leaves
And in the summer, I cut the weeds
When a funeral comes, the people cry and pray
They bury their dead, then they all go away
But through their grief I still can see their hate, and greed, and jealousy
So here I work, and I somehow hide from a world that rushes by outside
And each night when I rest my head, I'm contented as the peaceful death
But who's gonna cry when old John dies?
Who's gonna cry when old John dies?
Once, I was a young man dashing with the girls
Now, no one wants an old man, I lost my handsome curls
But I wanna say, when my time comes, lay me facing the rising sun
Put me in the corner where I buried my pop
Tell the preacher to pray, then cover me up
Don't lay flowers where my head should be
Maybe God will let some grow for me
And all the little children that I love like my own
Will they be sorry that old John's gone?
Who's gonna cry when old John dies?
Who's gonna cry when old John dies?
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