Woorden: Barbara Dickson. Other. Flowers In The Valley.
O there was a woman, and she was a widow,
Fair are the flowers in the valley
With a daughter as fair as a fresh sunny meadow
The Red, the Green and the Yellow.
The Harp, the Lute, the Pipe, the Flute, the Cymbal,
Sweet goes the treble Violin
The maid so rare and the flowers so fair
Together they grew in the valley.
There came a Knight all clothed in red,
Fair are the flowers in the valley
"I would thou wert my bride", he said
The Red, the Green and the Yellow.
The Harp, the Lute, the Pipe, the Flute, the Cymbal,
Sweet goes the treble Violin
"I would", she sighed, "ne'er wins a bride!"
Fair are the flowers in the valley
There came a Knight all clothed in green,
Fair are the flowers in the valley
"This maid so sweet might be my queen"
The Red, the Green and the Yellow
The Harp, the Lute, the Pipe, the Flute, the Cymbal,
Sweet goes the treble Violin
"Might be", sighed she, "will ne'er win me!"
Fair are the flowers in the valley.
There came a Knight, in yellow was he,
Fair are the flowers in the valley
"My bride, my queen, thou must with me!"
The Red, the Green and the Yellow.
The Harp, the Lute, the Pipe, the Flute, the Cymbal,
Sweet goes the treble Violin.
With blushes red, "I come", she said;
"Farewell to the flowers in the valley."
Barbara Dickson
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Barbara Dickson
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