I was born on the holy ground
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A running child in fields of clover
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I was living in the grandeur
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Of my father¡¯s land
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mmm...
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By the side of the swirling sea
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I spent the days of childish wonder
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And the rocks I held in my young hands
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I never felt them slip away
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Well the sun shone bright upon the waves
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And the wind blew high as I was leaving
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And I sailed so far away
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Looking for adventure
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mmm...
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But I would not stay where the city streets
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proclaimed so loudly man¡¯s endeavours
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Though music is a pretty thing
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in fine company
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And the wilderness took my breath away
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I felt I had to find my way
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Where no-one ever goes
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mmm...
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It was in the south that my new home lay
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With a dark eyed boy and wild horses
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With humming birds and roses there
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in old Mexico
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There the winds of change they blew so far
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Of liberty and revolution
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And it seemed that each man heard in his breast
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the drumming of a nation
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mmm...
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Repeat the first verse
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The Holy Ground
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Mary Black |