I usually sing a version from Howie Mitchell (on Folk-Legacy Records) that is essentially the same as the version from Mrs. George Armstrong, of Mountain View, Arkansas, reproduced in Mudcat: http://mudcat.org/@displaysong.cfm?SongID=9783
What always impresses me about this song is that from the bulk of balladry, we learn that kissing a corpse's lips is a bad idea--most times, the kisser is dead within a verse or two. But in this ballad, the kiss is somehow not fatal, quite the exception to the rule.