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The Cuckoo - Grace Griffith
The cuckoo she's a pretty bird
She sings as she flies
She brings us glad tidings
And tells us no lies
She sucks all sweet flowers
To make her voice clear
She never sings cuckoo
Till summer is near
She flies the hills over
She flies the world about
She flies back to the mountain
She mourns for her love
The cuckoo she's a pretty bird
She sings as she flies
She brings us glad tidings
And tells us no lies
