| I can’t believe that it’s so cold
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| As gentle tides go rolling by,
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| Along the salt sea strand
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| The colours blend and roll as one
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| Together in the sand.
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| And often do the winds entwine
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| Do send their distant call,
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| The quiet joys of brotherhood,
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| And love is lord of all.
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| The oak and weed together rise,
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| Along the common ground.
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| The mare and stallion light and dark
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| Have thunder in their sound.
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| The rainbow sign, the blended flower
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| Still have my heart in thrall.
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| The quiet joys of brotherhood,
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| And love is lord of all.
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| But man has come to plough the tide,
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| The oak lies on the ground.
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| I hear their tires in the fields,
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| They drive the stallion down.
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| The roses bleed both light and dark,
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| The winds do seldom call.
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| The running sands recall the time
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| When love was lord of all |