| Oh a family of bards
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| A travelling went to distant lands
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| A singing sweet
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| With pipes and strings and an open
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| Heart, just to wish their brothers
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| The good life
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| Greensleeves was all our joy
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| Greensleeves was our delight
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| Greensleeves our heart of gold
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| And who but our noble greensleeves
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| In «Dante's» land, oh there they
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| Marble strong, to see this celtic
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| Bloods sincerety, a look a smile
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| Even a tiny gift and turned
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| Their backs though curtesely
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| Then come to the citiy of a waltz
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| They say:"There they’ll love you
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| Passionately". But in truth they
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| Were given no time and even
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| Scorned, for the city of music
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| Is gone for gold
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| So they danced their way
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| Though scared and pained
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| To Shiller’s sweet haven
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| And dearest folk and at
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| Last they were watched with
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| Wondering love, and that lifted
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| This family’s saddened heart |