She's like the swallow That flies so high. She's like the river That never runs dry. She's like the sunshine on the lea-shore, I love my love, and love is no more. It's out of roses She made her bed. A stolen pillow For her head. She's like the sunshine on the lea-shore, I love my love, and love is no more.
She's like the swallow That flies so high. She's like the river That never runs dry. She's like the sunshine on the lea-shore, I love my love, and love is no more. It's out of roses She made her bed. A stolen pillow For her head. She's like the sunshine on the lea-shore, I love my love, and love is no more.
