View chordsDona, Dona| On a wagon bound for market, |
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There's a calf with a mournful eye. |
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High above him there's a swallow |
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Winging swiftly through the sky. |
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How the winds are laughing, |
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They laugh with all their might, |
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Laugh and laugh the whole day through, |
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And half the summer's night. |
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"Stop complaining," said the farmer, |
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"Who told you a calf to be, |
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Why don't you have wings to fly with, |
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Like the swallow so proud and free?" |
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Calves are easily bound and slaughtered, |
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Never knowing the reason why, |
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But whoever treasures freedom, |
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Like the swallow has learned to fly. |
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