| Oh, listen today to the story I tell
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| It’s sadned with tear dimmed eyes
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| Of a dreadful cyclone that came this way
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| And blew our schoolhouse away
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| Rye Cove, Rye Cove
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| The place of my childhood and home
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| Where in life’s early morn I once loved to roam
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| But now it’s so silent and lone
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| When the great storm appeared it darkened the air
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| And the lightning flashed over the sky
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| Then the children all cried, «Don't take us away
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| But spare us to go back home. |
| "
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| Rye Cove, Rye Cove
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| The place of my childhood and home
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| Where in life’s early morn I once loved to roam
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| But now it’s so silent and lone
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| Oh the mothers so sad and fathers the same
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| They came to this horrible scene
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| Then searching and crying each found their own child
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| Dying on a pillow of stone
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| Lord give us a home far beyond the blue skies
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| Where storms and cyclones are unknown
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| And there will we stand and gladly clasp hands
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| With our children in their heavenly home
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| Rye Cove, Rye Cove
|
| The place of my childhood and home
|
| Where in life’s early morn I once loved to roam
|
| But now it’s so silent and lone |