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Down the road |
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I look and there runs |
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Mary Hair of gold and lips like cherries |
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We go down to the river where the willows weep |
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Take a naked root for a lovers seat |
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That rose out of the bitten soil |
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But sound to the ground by creeping ivy coils |
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O Mary you have seduced my soul |
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And I don't know right from wrong |
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Forever a hostage of your child's world |
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And then I ran my tin-cup heart along |
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The prison of her ribs |
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And with a toss of her curls |
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That little girl goes wading in |
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Rollin her dress up past her knee |
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Turning these waters into wine |
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Then she platted all the willow vines |
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Mary in the shallows laughing |
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Over where the carp dart |
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Spooked by the new shadows that she cast |
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Across these sad waters and across my heart |