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Mirror Mirror


Mirror, Mirror, tell me,
Am I pretty or plain?
Or am I downright ugly
And ugly to remain?
Shall I marry a gentleman?
Shall I marry a clown?
Or shall I marry old Knives and Scissors
Shouting through the town?
Woeís me, woeís me,
The acornís not yet
Fallen from the tree
Thatís to grow the wood,
Thatís to make the candle,
Thatís to rock the bairn,
Thatís to grow a man,
Thatís to lay me.



 


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