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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