Description
That must have been a torture live.
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My whistle carved from willow,
Ah, it’s such a fine thing.
On it my sweetheart loves to blow,
lying down or standing.
Ey ey ey - lying down or standing!
She blows and then she blows again,
my little whistle goes hard,
my darling jumps for joy then.
She says I am her bard.
Ey ey ey - she says I am her bard!
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