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John Anderson, My Jo

     John Anderson, my jo, John,
     When we were first acquent;
     Your locks were like the raven,
     Your bonie brow was brent;
     But now your brow is beld, John,
     Your locks are like the snaw;
     But blessings on your frosty pow,
     John Anderson, my jo.

     John Anderson, my jo, John,
     We clamb the hill thegither;
     And mony a cantie day, John,
     We've had wi' ane anither:
     Now we maun totter down, John,
     And hand in hand we'll go,
     And sleep thegither at the foot,
     John Anderson, my jo.

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