its written in the stars
its written in bold,
you don't love me you don't love at all
its written in the stars its written in bold
about white horses
and about all toads

and early one summer you will walk out of bed
and youll tell me that you love me
but you won't break your head
and in winter-time i will rhime my ach in a thunder
and ill gladen all the trees and wake all the bottlles

sleep my boy, sleep my curly boy
you don't love me you donwt love at all