Oh bury me not in the deep, deep sea These words came faint and mournfully From the pallid lips of a youth who lay On his cabin couch from day to day That old Conrad Richter trope of the sea of grass, the tired cliche that the prairie is like the ocean - I never have bought into that. Evidently it works for some people, though, and now we have this lament - Bury me not in the deep, deep sea - showing up in a North Dakota farmhouse.