The birds they sing
To the flowers in the spring
They watch beauty unfold
As they grow
So love is to a young heart
So love is to a young heart
As it grows
Love never grows old
In spirit body or soul
Though a young heart
May fear this to be so
So how can a young heart know
Which way love is going to go
As a slow rippling stream
Never ending it seems
Flowing deeper and deeper
As it Flows
So love is to a young heart
So love is to a young heart
As it flows
To understand love
You must know its from above
Unbinding to hearts long ago
When you know it from above
Then you know
Which way love is going to go