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letra de spring - peter warlock

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spring, the sweet spring, is the year’s pleasant king;
then blooms each thing, then maids dance in a ring
cold doth not sting, the pretty birds do sing
cuckoo, jug-jug, pu-we, to-witta-woo!

the palm and may make country houses g-y
lambs frisk and play, the shepherds pipe all day
and we hear aye birds tune this merry lay
cuckoo, jug-jug, pu-we, to-witta-woo!

the fields breathe sweet, the daisies kiss our feet
young lovers meet, old wives a-sunning sit
in every street these tunes our ears do greet
cuckoo, jug-jug, pu-we, to-witta-woo!
spring! the sweet spring!

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