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Mostly Autumn
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Greenwood the Great
Under eastern silver skies
Where the bright moon wore the heart
In a land of bright bird
Where the springtime charmed the day
And the glad folk sang, to the sun
Melodies in golden glades
Through the narrows
Catch the starlight
In a land so fair
Greenwood blows there
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Then the rising misty fair
Where the sun refused to shine
And the arms of darkness grew
Through the narrows
Kill the starlight
In a land so fair
Blood burns cold there
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