Ashes and ashes and dust to dust, cold iron body turning to rust.

Turning of the fields back to forest, barn in timbers and smelling of fust.

Ashes and ashes and dust to dust, cold iron body turning to rust.

Old hand in stye and bones in the garden, flowers gone wild and reckless abandon.

Ashes and ashes and dust to dust, cold iron body turning to rust.

The cowhand’s daughter is buried at the cradle, the rancher’s life gone at a gamble.

Ashes and ashes and dust to dust, cold rancher’s body left to burn with the rest.