Come by the hills to the land where fancy is free

And stand where the peaks meet the sky and the rocks reach the sea


Where the rivers run clear and the bracken is gold in the sun

And cares of tomorrow must wait till this day is done.



Come by the hills to the land where life is a song

And sing while the birds fill the air with their joy all day long

Where the trees sway in time, and even the wind sings in tune

And cares of tomorrow must wait till this day is done.



Come by the hills to the land where legend remains

Where stories of old stir the heart and may yet come again

Where the past has been lost and the future is still to be won

And cares of tomorrow must wait till the day is done.



Come by the hills to the land where fancy is free

And stand where the peaks meet the sky and the rocks reach the sea

Where the rivers run clear and the bracken is gold in the sun

And cares of tomorrow must wait till this day is done.

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