JEAN

Jean, Jean, roses are red

All the leaves have gone green

And the clouds are so low

You can touch them, and so

Come out to the meadow, Jean

Jean, Jean, youŽre young and alive

Come out of your half-dreamed dream

And run, if you will, to the top of the hill

Open your arms, bonnie Jean

Till the sheep in the valley come home my way

Till the stars fall around me and find me alone

When the sun comes a-singinŽ that IŽll still be waitinŽ for...

...Jean, Jean, the roses are red

All the leaves have gone green

While the hills are ablaze with the moonŽs yellow haze

Come into my arms, bonnie Jean!

And go, if you will, to the top of the hill

Come into my arms, bonnie Jean!

Come into my arms, bonnie Jean!