| He use to sing his songs to his Sara Jane,
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| The folk singer,
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| His songs filled with love made the mountains ring,
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| To the folk singer,
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| At first Sara Jane was to be his bride,
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| But as his fame grew she was pushed aside,
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| So the mountain girl would say good-bye,
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| To the folk singer,
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| He let his hair grow long and he dressed in style,
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| The folk singer,
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| His voice was pure and the fans went wild,
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| For the folk singer,
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| He said Sara Jane was much too plain,
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| So he left her alone as grew more fame,
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| But sorrow will come like a mountain rain,
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| To the folk singer,
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| Lavished in glory, fortune at his feet,
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| The folk singer,
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| Awoke one morning and he couldn’t speak,
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| The folk singer,
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| The doctor said his singing days were through,
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| Thousands wept, Sara Jane did too,
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| He could not sing now his friends were few,
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| The folk singer,
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| Sick at heart in the mountains again,
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| The folk singer,
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| Now Sara Jane didn’t look so plain,
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| To the folk singer,
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| Oh the power of love can do strange things,
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| Cause love has made him sing again,
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| Only now he sings for his Sara Jane,
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| The folk singer,
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| And once again the mountains ring,
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| To the folk singer,
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| The folk singer,
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| The folk singer. |