| April comes to the new grass on the hills of gold
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| Tha feur ur air bar an tallamh, bar an tallamh, horribh o
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| Where winter falls in the long cold north
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| Black waters wait in the Ice and snow
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| Tha feur ur air bar an tallamh, bar an tallamh, horribh o
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| Black waters wait in the Ice and sun
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| Through the glens where your great rivers run
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| So we tend and we nurture all the seeds we’ve sown
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| Tha feur ur air bar an tallamh, bar an tallamh, horribh o
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| Through all the frosts and rains the west winds blow
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| Till the fields turn ripe and a harvest stored
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| Tha feur ur air bar an tallamh, bar an tallamh, horribh o
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| Through all the frosts and rains the west winds blow
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| We will wait here till the winter’s end
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| So it’s blood on blood, our bond, our word
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| Tha feur ur air bar an tallamh, bar an tallamh, horribh o
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| For the strength and weakness of our days
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| Is to take you there on a journey shared
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| Tha feur ur air bar an tallamh, bar an tallamh, horribh o
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| So take this ring, make it sparkle and glow
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| It’s much greater than we may ever know
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| Back on the stamping ground
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| To where it all began
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| Back on the stamping ground
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| We come again
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| (Translation: There’s a new grass growing on the top of the soil) |