Down the Hills in a valley lives a lady young and fair And of such a beauty with nothing to compare She owns wind in golden hair and morning in her smile And every time I see her, she makes my heart beguiled
Chorus: So, won't you come, dance with me? The child inside believes in fairies. With that dress, like a queen, with those lips stolen cherries With your face, sleeping grace, I don't need drink to drown the sorrow. Won't you come, dance with me? Take me home to new tomorrow
I hope the day is near, I will wear my smart clothes Walking firm and proud ripping thorns of white rose To court the hand of lady that sorely won my heart Creating new tomorrow, we'll never be apart.