But your love alone,
I will take without asking,
In the night I will,
What is mine shall be,
Even if it is yet known.
It waits for me still.
Those green hills stretch on,
Glistening and wet with due,
Many have laid there.
But your love alone,
I will take without asking,
In the night I will,
What is mine shall be,
Even if it is yet known.
It waits for me still.
Those green hills stretch on,
Glistening and wet with due,
Many have laid there.
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