| On a waggon bound for market
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| there`s a calf with a mournful eye.
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| High above him there`s a swallow,
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| winging swiftly through the sky.
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| How the winds are laughing,
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| they laugh with all their might.
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| Laugh and laugh the whole day through,
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| and half the summer`s night.
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| Donna, Donna, Donna, Donna; |
| Donna, Donna, Donna, Don.
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| Donna, Donna, Donna, Donna; |
| Donna, Donna, Donna, Don.
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| «Stop complaining!» |
| said the farmer,
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| Who told you a calf to be?
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| Why don`t you have wings to fly with,
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| like the swallow so proud and free?" + Chorus
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| Calves are easily bound and slaughtered,
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| never knowing the reason why.
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| But whoever treasures freedom,
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| like the swallow has learned to fly. |
| + Chorus
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| (Joan Baez) |