Marie christine:
To find a lover
I have something you must do
Blood of your father,
The blood of your father.

Daughters:
Lover bring me summer
Steal it if you dare;
Give me august,
Give me warmth
And rose-maid for my hair.
I won't question the goodness you bring.
I won't question the fruit you bear.
Lover bring me summer,
Give me the sun
To wear.