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Текст песни
September 17th, for a girl I know it's Mothers Day,
Her son has gone alee, and that's where he will stay,
Wind on the weathervane, tearing blue eyes sailor mean,
As Falstaff sings a sorrowful refrain, for a boy in Fiddler's Green,
His tiny knotted heart, well I guess it never worked too good,
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