Cycling Past Italian Sunset
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When I grow up my love and I
will cycle past Italian
sky past lavender fields and olive groves
we'll have a picnic with crusty loaves

with flavoured water and salami too
beneath a tree, take in the view.
Hold each other by the hand
at sunset in our far off land.

There will be no war or sickness too
no fear of what the world might do.
We'll sit and drink from a dark blue cup
my love and I when I grow up.