BLACK EYES
Hudba: česká lidová / Text: Mark Landry

Go to sleep, close your black eyes
In the morning you must rise

Morning, morning, the morn's here
Before the sun will appear

The sun's no loger above
For a walk goes my sweet love

Along the old square she goes
Carrying sad news which she knows

The bit of news is like this:
For the army they enlist

Of they draft boys to army
It would be a great pity




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