I was told of a bottle called Happiness

In a secret land of past

One bleak day I packed my things

And set on to find it long last


I looked here and I looked there

I looked everywhere obscure

Time went by days flew by

There was nothing I could procure


I swore to myself I cried in my sleep

O Lord do give me peace

I scorched my lips I stared into space

O Lord do let me breathe


I met my Love one Sunday eve

By the favored spot of Tree

You looked at me with cold black eyes

As if I were dead to thee


I ask my Love I plead my Love

Do give me leave to go

Time has come to amble once more

To look for The Bottle of yore



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