I found most of these lyrics (the last verse is mine, the rest is basically by @harmonicdirt) and I fell in love. My favourite author, Wendell Berry, probably sees his end going something like this. I do too for that matter.
Carry me over water, on your back the pull is strong. 90 times I’ve been, been around the entire sun.
My time as a boatman, farmer, hired hand, working man. The years passed me over tho I stayed on my own land.
Moon on the river, shards of glass.
Broke to pieces, brought me back at last.
Crescent to full, exhaled to new.
The man on the moon, sleeps when he’s through.
Have you seen the palms, flesh of the working men?
Calloused rough and dirty, not the hands of banker man.
Hands like mine will carry, my body when it lays still. Hands that worked the land and not the dollar bills.
I will be carried, to the ghost disk in the sky
By hands that worked, right next to mine
The time is come, the night is clear
Ashes on the river, release me from here