The Caravelles
The Caravelles
The Caravelles
The Caravelles
The Caravelles
The Caravelles
The Caravelles
The Caravelles
The Caravelles
The Caravelles
The Caravelles
The Caravelles
Don't sing love songs
You'll wake my mother
She's sleeping here right by my side
And in her right hand, a silver dagger
She says that I can't be your bride
All men are bores, so says my mother
They'll tell you weakening and sinful lies
And the very next day, they'll court another
Leave you alone to pine and sigh
Go court another fair young maiden
And hope that she will be your wife
For I've been warned, and I desire to sleep alone
All of my lifе
All of my life