(partial lyrics) To a lane called Corrie Wynd there came a peddler With his pack and all he called gestedler And in his bag he carried many treasures Dear old Benjamin Day, I still can hear you say Strange things for sale, straight from a fairy tale He'd open up his bag, and take out what he had An amethyst ring, a puppet on a string A piece of crystal glass, a thing that's meant to last. I still recall the stories he would tell us....
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