The shadows are creeping across the dirt mound Way down in the bottoms below And the willows are weeping a sad mournful sound That whispers she ain't coming home And the moon rides high in the cottonwood trees And the last birds of summer have flown I'm high as a pine upon sycamore ridge Lonesome and dry as a bone Lonesome and dry as a bone The springtime came early along with it rain And the fever was going around It took the hand of my darling, my prayers were in vain Now she's laying in the cold, cold ground And the moon rides high in the cottonwood trees And the last birds of summer have flown I'm high as a pine upon sycamore ridge Lonesome and dry as a bone Lonesome and dry as a bone Whoa, how I loved her and lost her But somehow I keep hanging on No doubt I'm bound for a lifetime Lonesome and dry as a bone Lonesome and dry as a bone And the moon rides high in the cottonwood trees And the last birds of summer have flown I'm high as a pine upon sycamore ridge Lonesome and dry as a bone Lonesome and dry as a bone