I will tell of a hunter whose life was undone,
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By the cruel hand of evil at the setting of the sun,
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His arrow was loosed and it flew through the dark,
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And his true love was slain as the shaft found its mark;
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She'd her apron wrapped about her,
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And he took her for a swan,
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And it's oh and alas it was she, Polly Von;
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He ran up beside her and found that it was she,
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He turned away his face for he could not bear to see,
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He lifted her up and he found she was dead,
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A fountain of tears for his true love he shed;
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She'd her apron wrapped about her,
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And he took her for a swan,
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And it's oh and alas it was she, Polly Von;
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He carried her off to his home by the sea,
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Crying' "Father, oh Father, I've murdered poor Polly!
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I've killed my fair love in the flower of her life,
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I'd always intended that she be my wife;"
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"But she'd her apron wrapped about her
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And I took her for a swan,
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And it's oh and alas it was she, Polly Von;"
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He roamed near the place where his true love was slain,
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And wept bitter tears, but his cries were all in vain,
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As he looked on the lake, a swan glided by,
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And the sun slowly set in the grey of the sky;
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"But she'd her apron wrapped about her
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And I took her for a swan,
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And it's oh and alas it was she, Polly Von;"
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"She'd her apron wrapped about her
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And I took her for a swan,
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And it's oh and alas it was she, Polly Von."
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Polly Von
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Chris De Burgh |