| Down by O’Connell street one summers evening
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| I meet a young woman, it was our first meeting
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| Crossed over the bridge and down by the river
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| By the strawberry beds I found that I knew her
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| She called me her darling man
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| We spend a few hours and we drank a few glasses
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| We danced at the bar ignoring their glances
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| Ev’ryone knew her name and they knew by my face
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| With a beer in my hand and her arm round my waist
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| Calling me her darling man
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| The river runs deep, sweet music roll on
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| So the times are long gone, sweet music roll on
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| Then came the morning and my boat was leaving
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| She smiled as she said to me: «No point in grieving»
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| Ev’ryonce in a while when I hear music playing
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| I remember her smile and I hear her voice saying:
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| Calling me her darling man
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| The river runs deep, sweet music roll on
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| So the times are long gone, sweet music roll on |