Hares on the Mountain

Young women,
They run like hares on the mountains.
Young women,
They run like hares on the mountains.

If I was a young man I’d soon go a-hunting
To me right fol a diddle dero, right fol a diddle day!

Young women,
They sing like birds in the bushes
Young women,
They sing like birds in the bushes

If I was a young man I’d go beat them bushes
To me right fol a diddle dero, right fol a diddle day!

Young women,
They swim like ducks in the water
Young women,
They swim like ducks in the water

If I was a young man I’d soon go swim after
To me right fol a diddle dero, right fol a diddle day!

Young women,
They run like hares on the mountains.
Young women,
They run like hares on the mountains.

And if I was a young man I’d soon go a-hunting
To me right fol a diddle dero, right fol a diddle day!

 

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About Uisce úr

Though I am old with wandering Through hollow lands and hilly lands, I will find out where she has gone, And kiss her lips and take her hands; And walk among long dappled grass, And pluck till time and times are done, The silver apples of the moon, The golden apples of the sun.
This entry was posted in Autobiography, Entertainment, Humour, Life, don't talk to me about life!, Music, Philosophy, Political Correctness, Relationships, Wildlife and tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

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