The water is wide, I cannot get o’er
Neither have I wings to fly.
Give me a boat that can carry two
And both shall row my true love and I
I lean’d my back against an oak,
Thinking it was a trusting tree.
But first it bent and then it broke,
So did my love prove false to me.
I put my hand in some soft bush
Thinking the sweetest flow’r to find.
I prick’d my finger to the bone
And left the sweetest flow’r behind.
But love is gentle and love is kind,
the sweetest flower when first it’s new
But love grows old and waxes cold
And fades away like the morning dew.
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The Water is Wide
Joan Baez
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