To see you, my love,
I carry my spinning wheel to the lane,
Unraveling the threads of longing,
To cool the fever of your memory's pain.
To see you, my love.
The spinning wheel hums softly,
Your memory's gourd sings low,
The spinning wheel hums softly,
Your memory's gourd sings low.
Weaving a gentle song,
I find solace in its sway.
Unraveling the threads of longing,
To cool the fever of your memory's pain.
Oh, my love, to see you,
I carry my spinning wheel to the lane,
Unraveling the threads of longing,
To cool the fever of your memory's pain.
Oh, my love, to see you.
They gather, forbidding laughter,
These whispers of your absence,
They gather, forbidding laughter,
These whispers of your absence.
Tell me now, my love,
Where can I turn without you?
Unraveling the threads of longing,
To cool the fever of your memory's pain.
Oh, my love, to see you,
I carry my spinning wheel to the lane,
Unraveling the threads of longing,
To cool the fever of your memory's pain.
Oh, my love, to see you.
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