David Wood (07 April 1950 / London)
A wanderer’s song
No more shall we go wandering
By the light of the silvery moon
Or drinking the night time hours away
Because the evening goes too soon.
Less shall we woo young maidens
To steal a kiss or two
With fickle love in night-time bars
As others seem to do.
The night was made for wooing
Young damsels in early May
Under a clear full moon’s whisper
As young hearts go astray.
But beware as autumn comes around
There is a call from among the wild
As some young maidens go to ground
As they find themselves with child.
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