I rise at six and then I feed the chicks,

And I'm feeling lonesome and blue,

And when I milk the cow it seems, somehow,

My thoughts keep straying to you.

And as the horse and I plough the field nearby,

Your memory I can't erase,

For while I walk at the rear of the horse, my dear,

I seem to see your face.

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(Lyrics to song "Harvest of Love")

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