He's like the swallow that flies so high,
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He's like the river that never runs dry.
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He's like the sunshine on the lee shore,
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He was my love, my love is no more.
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Out in the garden,
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I'm picking roses, how could he not
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The more he picked and the more he pulled,
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Until I gathered an apron full.
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She climbed on yonder hill above
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To give a rose unto her love.
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She gave him one, she gave him three
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She gave her heart for company.
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And as they sat on yonder hill
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His heart grew hard, so harder still.
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He has two hearts instead of one.
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She says, "Young man, what have you done?"
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"How foolish, foolish you must be
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To think I love no one but thee.
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The world's not made for one alone,
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I take delight in everyone."
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Out of these roses he made a bed,
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A stony pillow for his head.
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He lay his head down, no word he spoke
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....
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-----------------
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Like a swallow
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Stina Nordenstam |