Cauld blaws the wind frae east to west, The drift is driving sairly; Sae loud shrill`s I hear the blast, I`m sure it`s winters fairly. CHORUS:Up in the morning`s no for me, Up in the mornings early; When a` the hills are cover`d wi` snaw, I`m sure it`s winter fairly. The birds sit chittering on the the thorn, A` day they fare but sparely; And lang`s the night frae e`en to morn, I`m sure it`s winter fairly. CHORUS: Up in the morning`s no for me, Up in the mornings early; When a` the hills are cover`d wi` snaw, I`m sure it`s winter fairly.SourceThe script ran 0.001 seconds.
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