Stillife - Black Lambs Three | Текст песни

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• Stillife
• Black Lambs Three

O you, black lambs three
With your crooked horns,
In the woods you tramped
From the early morn.

On your fiddles you played
For our child to hear,
What sweet music you made
For our baby to cheer.

The owl she hooted
And her wings she beat,
And the goat in his shed,
He stamped his feet.

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