Outside our little garden gate,
Far over hill and down,
The bright road, the long white road,
Goes winding to the town.
I often peep between the bars
When I am tired of play;
I wish that I could follow it
Some happy summer day.
Far over hill and down,
The bright road, the long white road,
Goes winding to the town.
When I am tired of play;
I wish that I could follow it
Some happy summer day.
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