Down to the old stone circles I go,
where wild waters are whispering,
down into the glen at night
when the moon overflows with silver,
down to the whispering willow,
to weep for my true love
who died.
where wild waters are whispering,
down into the glen at night
when the moon overflows with silver,
down to the whispering willow,
to weep for my true love
who died.
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