On this cold November morning here I stand By the graveside of this dear forgotten man Thinking of the friends he lost for love of gold This old story through the years has oft been told. Some folks drift along through life and never thrill To the feeling that a good deed brings, until It's too late but they're ready to lie down There beneath the leaves that are scattered on the ground. Fallen leaves that lie scattered on the ground The birds and flowers that were here cannot be found All the friends we ever had are not around They are scattered like the leaves upon the ground. Lord let my eyes see every need of every man Make me stop and always lend a helping hand Then when I'm laid beneath my little grassy mound There'll be more friends around than leaves upon the ground. To your grave there's no use taking any gold You cannot use it when it's time for hands to fold When you leave this earth for a better home someday The only things you'll take are what you gave away. Fallen leaves that lie scattered on the ground The birds and flowers that were here cannot be found All the friends we ever had are not around They are scattered like the leaves upon the ground.
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