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letra de the seasons - john francis flynn

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the hills are clad in purple and the trees are clad in gold
the autumn wind is sighing of a beauty growing old
the gray grouse in the heather and the wild deer in the glen
i’m dreaming of the sunshine, when i see that spring again

that merry laughing summer with its mantle cloak of green
that merry laughing summer with its mantle cloak of green
it was autumn, gentle autumn, with its bonny eyes of gray
that wrapped me in the twilight and it stole my heart away

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