| Farewell, you northern hills, you mountains all goodbye
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| Moorlands and stony ridges, crags and peaks, goodbye
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| Glyder Fach farewell, cold big Scafell, cloud-bearing Suilven
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| Sun-warmed rocks and the cold of Bleaklow’s frozen sea
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| The snow and the wind and the rain of hills and mountains
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| Days in the sun and the tempered wind and the air like wine
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| And you drink and you drink till you’re drunk on the joy of living
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| Farewell to you, my love, my time is almost done
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| Lie in my arms once more until the darkness comes
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| You filled all my days, held the night at bay, dearest companion
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| Years pass by and they’re gone with the speed of birds in flight
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| Our lives like the verse of a song heard in the mountains
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| Give me your hand and love and join your voice with mine
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| And we’ll sing of the hurt and the pain and the joy of living
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| Farewell to you, my chicks, soon you must fly alone
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| Flesh of my flesh, my future life, bone of my bone
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| May your wings be strong may your days be long safe be your journey
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| Each of you bears inside of you the gift of love
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| May it bring you light and warmth and the pleasure of giving
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| Eagerly savour each new day and the taste of its mouth
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| Never lose sight of the thrill and the joy of living
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| Take me to some high place of heather, rock and ling
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| Scatter my dust and ashes, feed me to the wind
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| So that I may be part of all you see, the air you are breathing
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| I’ll be part of the curlew’s cry and the soaring hawk
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| The blue milkwort and the sundew hung with diamonds
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| I’ll be riding the gentle breeze as it blows through your hair
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| Reminding you how we shared in the joy of living |