| Out in the country
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| Far from all the soot and noise of the city
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| There’s a village green
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| It’s been a long time
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| Since I last set eyes on the church with the steeple
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| Down by the village green
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| 'Twas there I met a girl called Daisy
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| And kissed her by the old oak tree
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| Although I loved my Daisy, I sought fame
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| And so I left the village green
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| I miss the village green
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| And all the simple people
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| I miss the village green
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| The church, the clock, the steeple
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| I miss the morning dew, fresh air and Sunday school
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| And now all the houses
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| Are rare antiquities
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| American tourists flock to see the village green
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| They snap their photographs and say «Gawd darn it
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| Isn’t it a pretty scene»
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| And Daisy’s married Tom the grocer boy
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| And now he owns a grocery
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| I miss the village green
|
| And all the simple people
|
| I miss the village green
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| The church, the clock, the steeple
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| I miss the morning dew, fresh air and Sunday school
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| And I will return there
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| And I’ll see Daisy
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| And we’ll sip tea, laugh
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| And talk about the village green
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| We will laugh and talk about the village green |