I remember a maid my mother had taken
Who had a love that was forsaken.
And every night before I’d sleep,
She’d sing of the tree that weeps.
Sing willow, willow,
Hear her as she moans
Sing willow, willow,
Tears fall to soften stones.
The poor soul sat singing by a sycamore tree,
Her hand on her bosom, her head on her knee.
The hanging branches shared her grief
Of a love that died like a falling leaf.
Sing willow, willow,
Hear her as she moans
Sing willow, willow,
Tears fall to soften stones.
Don’t let yourself become withdrawn
When love’s conclusion is foregone.
And when you are left behind,
May this song echo in your mind.
Sing willow, willow,
Hear her as she moans
Sing willow, willow,
Tears fall to soften stones.
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