2 min.
2010
Text
The water is wide, I can-not cross o’er.
And neither have I the wings to fly.
Build me a boat that can carry two,
And both shall row, my true love and I.
O love is handsome and love is fine
Bright as a jewel when first it’s new
but love grows old and waxes cold
And fades away like the morning dew.
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