| The Whistler |
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I'll buy you six bay mares, to put in you stable;
Six golden apples brought with my pay.
I am the first piper who calls the sweet tune
But I must be gone by the seventh day.
Chorus So come on - I'm the Whistler
I have a fife, and a drum to play.
Get ready - I'm the Whistler.
I whistle along on the seventh day.
All kinds of sadness I've left behind me.
Many's the day when I have done wrong.
But I'll be your for ever and ever.
Climb in the saddle and whistle along.
Chorus
Deep red are the sunsets in mystical places.
Black are the nights on summer-day sands.
We'll find the speck of truth in each riddle:
Hold the first grain of love in our hands.
Chorus
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