| Who are you my pretty fair maiden
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| Who are you my honey
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| Who are you my pretty fair maiden
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| Who are you my honey
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| She answered me modestly
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| I am a mother’s darling fiddle-dy
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| You are da-faddle-diddle-da fidy-didy-diddle-o-de-o
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| Will you come to my mother’s house when the moon is shining clearly
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| Will you come to my mother’s house when the moon is shining clearly
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| I’ll open the door and I’ll let you in
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| And devil the one will hear us fiddle-dy
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| You are da-faddle-diddle-da fidy-didy-diddle-o-de-o
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| So I went to her house in the middle of the night and the moon was shining
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| clearly
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| So I went to her house in the middle of the night and the moon was shining
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| clearly
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| She opened the door and she let me in and devil the one did hear us fiddle-dy
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| You are da-faddle-diddle-da fidy-didy-diddle-o-de-o
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| Then she took my horse by the bridle and the bit and she led him to the stable
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| Then she took my horse by the bridle and the bit and she led him to the stable
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| Say there’s plenty of odds for a soldier’s horse to eat it if he’s able
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| fiddle-dy
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| You are da-faddle-diddle-da fidy-didy-diddle-o-de-o
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| Then she took me by her lily white hand and she led me to the table
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| Then she took me by her lily white hand and she led me to the table
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| Say there’s plenty of wine for a soldier boy to drink it if he’s able fiddle-dy
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| You are da-faddle-diddle-da fidy-didy-diddle-o-de-o
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| Then she got up and she made the bed and she made it nice and easy
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| Then she got up and she made the bed and she made it nice and easy
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| Then she took me by the hand and said:'Blow out the candle' fiddle-dy
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| You are da-faddle-diddle-da fidy-didy-diddle-o-de-o
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| There we laid 'til the break of the day and devil the one did hear us
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| There we laid 'til the break of the day and devil the one did hear us
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| Then she arose, put on her clothes, said:'Darling you must leave me' fiddle-dy
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| You are da-faddle-diddle-da fidy-didy-diddle-o-de-o
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| When can I return again and when will we get married
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| When can I return again and when will we get married
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| When broken shells make temple bells, that’s when we’ll be married fiddle-dy
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| You are da-faddle-diddle-da fidy-didy-diddle-o-de-o |