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The're Luves

Oh, ma luve, whit wuddent A dae for ye?
For tae hae ye for a maument, faur awa frae the warld
And near tae me.
Oh, ma luve, like the Magdalena river
that melts in the saund o the sea,
A want tae melt in ye.
 
The’re luves that become resistant tae pynes,
Like wine that impruives wi the years,
Sicweys growes what A feel for ye.
 
The’re luves that bide the winter tae floorish
And in the autumn nichts, thay bluim
Sic as the luve that A feel for ye.
 
Oh, ma luve, dinna forget o the sea
That saw me greet at nicht
Sae mony memories o ye.
Oh, ma luve, dinna forget o the day
That separatit yer life
Frae the sairy life A’ve haed tae leeve.
 
The’re luves that become resistant tae pynes,
Like wine that impruives wi the years,
Sicweys growes what A feel for ye.
 
The’re luves that seem tae wilt anely tae floorish
And in the autumn nichts, thay bluim
Sic as the luve that A feel for ye.
For ye… for ye… sic as the luve that A feel for ye.
 
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