This song tells a story. I love those sappy, melancholy Celtic songs about unrequited love and people dying for unrequited love. I wanted to write one with a bit of a twist. (Hint: John 3:16, "For God so loved the world...")
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Lyrics:
One day in early spring
As clouds rolled 'cross the sky,
Oh, there was not a bird to sing
For my true love and I.
Only of my true love I thought
As I walked that weary road.
In my two hands, my love I brought.
'Twas such a heavy load.
For true love can't bear the name
If it be only true
When it be given back the same,
For true loves be but few.
So I call her my true love still,
For I am true to her.
My love is nothing she can kill
Though dead she would I were.
And dead I soon will be.
As I climb this lonely hill,
I go for all The World to see
That She's my true love still.
That you're my true love still.
My love in my two hands
I carried all the way.
Then I stretched them out to all the lands
And died for them that day.
I died that one spring day.
One day in early spring
As clouds rolled 'cross the sky,
Oh, there was not a bird to sing
For my true love and I.
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