No Flowers, No Lies

(Speaking low, steady) Don’t waste roses on what ain’t pure. Don’t bless a life you couldn’t endure.

I walked the line till the line caught fire, Fed my soul to my own desire. I didn’t crawl, I didn’t plead, I took my pain like something I’d need.

No flowers, no lies, when I’m gone, Just the truth carved cold in stone. Say I burned what I couldn’t own, And I died the way I rode — alone.

Don’t call me lost, I never was found, Just dust that refused the ground. The preacher came, I turned away, Said, “Keep your heaven, I’ll make my own day.”

No flowers, no lies, no borrowed grace, No kind words to hide my face. If you speak, speak true, not kind, I was born with sin on my mind.

Don’t dress me clean, don’t paint me gold, The dirt knows better than what it’s told. I ain’t the man they’ll write about — But I’m the one the dark won’t doubt.

No flowers, no lies, no borrowed hymn, No crown for what ain’t been redeemed. Let the thunder take my name, I lived wild, and I’ll die the same.

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