Was on one cold winter's night
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And the wind blew across the wild moor
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Poor Mary came wand'ring with a child in her arms
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And she stopped at her own father's door.
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Oh, father, oh father, she cried
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Come down and open the door
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Or this child in my arms, will perish and die
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From the winds that blow across the wild moor.
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Oh why did I leave this fair spot
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Where once I was happy and free
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This wide world to roam, with no friends or no home
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And no one to have pity on me.
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But the father was deaf to her cry
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Not the sound of her voice, did he hear
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For the watch dogs did howl and the village bells tolled
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And the winds blew across the wild moor.
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Oh, how the old man must have felt
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When he opened the door, the next morn'
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And found Mary dead, but the child still alive
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Clasped close in it's dead mother's arms.
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In anguish, he pulled his gray hair
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And the tears, down his cheeks, they did pour
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When he saw how that night, they had perished and died
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From the winds that blow across the wild moor.
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The old man, his life, pined away
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And the child, to it's mother, went soon
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And no one they say, lives there to this day
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And the old house, to ruin, has gone.
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But the villagers point out the spot
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And the willows droop over the door
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Where poor mary died, once a sweet village bride
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From the winds that blow across the wild moor.
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Mary Of The Wild Moor
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Johnny Cash |