| I was happy and always pleased myself
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| And certainly did not think me stupid
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| Until on Brooklandsvägen I met one day
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| A young lady who made me dumb
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| It was in the middle of a fragrant June night
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| And to the east the thunder went
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| And I saw the face, though the light was dim
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| And that was just a moment
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| Low down, low down
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| Where small lanterns go out and go in
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| In young butter, I forgot you all for one
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| And she can never be mine
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| She looked at me and smiled but was silent
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| She smiled and soon disappeared
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| But alas, then my peace went its way
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| And the stream of my joy before
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| So do not ring the evening prayer
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| In Brookland's bells, there
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| In the ring Goodman out of the lake
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| Before I fall in love again
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| Low down, low down
|
| Where small lanterns go out and go in
|
| In young butter, I forgot you all for one
|
| And she can never be mine
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| The water stands around Fairfield's church
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| In now pure early autumn
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| But before she stands in the highlands
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| Let no one give me comfort
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| Well Goodman's farm is the sand of the sea
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| For many thousands of years
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| But it will become arable land
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| Before I get a wife
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| So let me just go to Brookland
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| Then again the thunder goes -
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| For where she once led so well
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| She might be standing again
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| Low down, low down
|
| Where small lanterns go out and go in
|
| In young butter, I forgot you all for one
|
| And she can never be mine |