| Awake, awake you drowsy sleeper
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| How can you lie and slumber so
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| When your true love is a going to leave you
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| And never to return any more
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| How can you slumber on your pillow?
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| When your true love must stand and wait
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| And must I go and wear the willow
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| In sorrow mourning for your sake
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| O Molly deal go ask your father
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| If you my, my bride can be
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| And then return and quickly tell me
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| An I no more shall trouble thee
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| O no I cannot ask my father
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| He’s lying on his bed of rest
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| And in his hand is a silver dagger
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| To pierce the one that I love bst
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| Down in yon valley there grows a green yarrow
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| I wish that yarrow shot through my brast
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| It would end my dream, it would end my sorrow
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| And set my troubled heart at rest |