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Harlequin Melodies
A trip through the nice fantasies
Where baby red roses endlessly wind
Their ways through the meadows
Of my sleeping mind

Gently my love come to me
Cool is the grass 'neath the trees
Soft is the sunshine
That spills from the dew
Tiny reflections of me loving you

Then I awake and its dawn
They say what is gone is always gone
Yet baby red roses still endlessly wind
Their way through the meadows
Of my empty mind

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