| A crowd of young fellows one night at a ball
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| Were telling of sweethearts they had
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| All seemed jolly except one lad
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| Who seemed downhearted and sad
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| Come join us, Ned, his comrades then said
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| Surely some girl has loved you
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| Then raising his head, proudly he said
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| I’m in love with two
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| One has hair of silver-gray
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| The other one is just like gold
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| One is young and youthful, too
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| The other one is aged and old
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| But dearer than life are they both to me From neither would I part
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| One is my mother, God bless her, I love her
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| The other one is my sweetheart
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| My sweetheart is a poor working girl
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| Whom I’m determined to wed
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| Father said no, 'twill never be so You must marry an heiress instead
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| Mother was young, she knows how it is When father met her she was poor
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| Ned, don’t fret, she’ll be your wife yet
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| For he will consent, I am sure
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| One has hair of silver-gray
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| The other one is just like gold
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| One is young and youthful, too
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| The other one is aged and old
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| But dearer than life are they both to me From neither would I part
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| One is my mother, God bless her, I love her
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| The other one is my sweetheart |