| We sold our homesteads and started on our way
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| Just like the birds will fly when autumn is here to stay
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| One day they will return, come spring again that’s when
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| But we will never see our native country again
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| At first we travelled through the English countryside
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| On tracks and on wagons as quickly as birds would fly
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| It was a lovely sight to see the land at last
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| But all the glorious sights kept flashing by too fast
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| And later when we came to Liverpuddlian bay
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| The tears of regret finally started to have their say
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| The hearts then started burning in each and everyone
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| We only talked of Sweden that used to be our home
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| We all were packed together in one unhealthy cave
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| It was as if we’d stepped into an open grave
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| The food that we had brought from blessed Swedish land
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| Was suddenly forbidden and taken from our hand
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| And when we had been sailing for just a week or two
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| A horrid kind of darkness was clouding our view
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| We couldn’t see each other and hardly breathe or walk
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| It was a gruesome anguish for all people aboard
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| The air was filled with hunger and drenched in wretched cries
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| The howling and the noises would pierce right through the skies
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| And death became the ruler that forces us to our knees
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| The dead were buried in the horrid fathom of the seas |