I won't to tell of my love to the red, red rose
Or the running brook where the sweet magnolia grows
I won't tell of my love to every little star
Or the wipperwill on the hill afar
I'll tell the man in the street and everyone I meet
That you and I are sweethearts
I'll shout it out from the roof, I'll give the papers proof
That we two are complete hearts
I want the world to know, I'll use the radio
And when I've said all my say until you're old and gray
You'll never get away from me
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