Beware the dream that turns to greed
When the flower rejects the seed
When the lover does not yearn
For the swallow's swift return
Too late the lesson has been learned
The flowers withered, the letters burned
The fond embrace is just a breeze
Like the touch of falling leaves
Take this broken heart of mine
Throw it out like sour wine
Let it burn upon the fire
For you're the rose and I'm the briar
And now the years are rolling on
And I think of what has gone
For what I gained I do not care
And what I lost I hold most dear
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