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    The way I feel is like a robin,

    Whoses birds have flown to come no more,

    Like a tall oak-tree, alone and cryin,

    When the birds have flown and the nest is bare.

    Now a woman, lord, is like a young bird,

    And the tall oak-tree is a young mans heart.

    Among its branches, youll find her nesting

    When the nights are cool, she is warm and dry.

    In leaves of green they will protect her,

    Her wings will grow, your love will too

    But all too soon your mighty branches

    Will fail to hold her, shell fly from you.

    (repeat first verse)

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