Sam, bless him, has died and left this home
 The [bad word] wild, the bushes overgrown
 Slip unseen into the skein of trees
 Slide through dusky grasses and scatter his ashes

 Oh, it's all over, he's [bad word] back
 There'll be no more roaming
 He was only here for fourteen years
 And now the branches scratch my face and I can't hold back my tears

 Long ago I'd see [bad word] in the snow
 [bad word] in from the cold and he'd lie down by the stove
 Pass along this loping road
 The needley grasp of briars on the slope

 Oh, it's all over, he's [bad word] back
 There'll be no more roaming
 He was only here for fourteen years
 And now the branches scratch my face and I can't hold back my tears

 He'd never been to church, so he doesn't have a soul
 He isn't waiting at the place where all of us will go
 But the woodchucks [bad word] so wild
 The bushes wouldn't be so overgrown if we were not alone

 Bound unbound through the boundless air, remaining wisps of hair
 Barking out through everywhere
 The trees, the grass, the rain
 And Sam in the air

 Oh, it's all over, he ain't [bad word] back
 There'll be no more roaming 
 He was in this world, by my side he was curled
 But he came uncurled and this world holds him that much tighter

 That much tighter, that much tighter
 That much tighter, that much tighter
 Tighter, tighter, tighter, tighter
 Tighter, tighter, tighter, tighter, oh