Cut me down,   Bury this rosary   Somewhere out of town,   Somewhere out by the sea      And take this ring,   Give it to Emily   And tell her I'm peaceful now,   Tell her I've been released      I will be rolling on, I will be rolling on . . .      Well I know that dream,   I know it all too well   Starts like a lonely voice   And shifts to a tolling bell      Like rain on a dusty ground   Small bones in the driest well   The spark breathes a fiery tongue   And the tongues kiss the cheek of Hell      I will be rolling on, I will be rolling on   I've had my part to play, now I am going home . . . .      There's no telling which way boys   This thing is gonna take hold   From the fruit on a poplar tree   To the bruise round a band of gold      From the blood in a far country   To the war of just growing old   We travel a long road   And it's lonely and it is cold      And we will be rolling on, We will be rolling on   We had our part to play now we are going home      We will keep rolling on   We will keep rolling on   'Cause for every midnight hour   There's always a rising sun . . . .