The Risin’ O’ The Moon
¶ 1
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A sight to warm a lass’s heart
A picture smooth and lovely
Like porcelain the rarest flower
A sensorous fragile beauty
¶ 2
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A sight to hold her eyes enthralled
Pull birds down from the trees
A word to keep her love your own
And last eternally
¶ 3
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A sight to charm a thousand girls
As time will come to pass
The Risin’ O’ the Moon indeed
Across that blessed Anfield grass.
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