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Joy, joy, we're feeling such joy!
Joy in our bones, joy in our hearts and joy in our loins!
Love, love, we're yearning for love!
Love for our friends, love for our kin, love for ourselves!
Jubilation! Celebration! Ring like a ceaseless bell.
Ding ***! Join in the throng!
Leave all your cares to hell!
When we stood near the chapel door, feeling our hearts burst with hope
We watched two people that we adore fall in love and make their true love vow
When he said, "I'll hold you evermore..."
It means he can't get rid of her now!
When we stood near the chapel, watching our finest bloke fall
We heard the shrill warning bell...
We won't be shackled down for life to some eager madamoiselle.
As if you could get a wife!
Safe, safe, I'm feeling so safe!
Safe in your arms, safe by your side, and safe all my life!
Bliss, bliss, we'll bask in this bliss!
Bliss from your eyes, bliss from your mouth, bliss all around!
Jubilation! Celebration! Ring like a ceaseless bell!
Ding ***! Join in the throng!
Leave all your cares to hell!
You must be the happiest woman on earth, Rosaleen.
I believe I am.
Fortunate has certainly smiled upon you, my child.
You're very lucky that he chose you.
Perhaps he is lucky that I chose him!
I honestly do not know how you became so brazen, Rosaleen.
You certainly did not get it from me.
Brazen?
Yes, brazen. You're entirely too clever for your own good,
and you never let anyone forget it. Isn't that right, dear?
Oh, yes, of course, dear, I quite agree.
I was saying that Rosaleen is too clever--
and it would not do her harm to act a bit more reserved.
It is true. She is too educated for a woman.
Yes, I quite agree.
Then again, a daughter is never an easy thing.
But Rosaleen is such a sweet and beautiful girl!
Sweet? Beautiful?
That's only where the trouble begins!
With stars in her eyes and cherries on her lips,
a daughter ails her parents far more than you could imagine.
Her innocent looks, her sweet faraway sighs,
may say she's only lonely-- but a wise mother always knows.
She's visiting a friend, simply having some tea--
But her new petticoat's ripped, and there's more than just tea in her.
Oh, daughters, flowers for sure, sweet, innocent, gentle and pure--
Oh, daughters, trouble we say, sly, childlike, artful, and gay!
You may think her gentle-- you may think her kind--
but that little white lily has her petals duly plucked.
By a sailor in town or a soldier with lies--
If she does the proper thing, she wilts, and she dies
But if she chooses life, it's a baby we see
Crying and wailing all night, screaming our shame to the neighbors!
Oh, daughters, flowers for sure-- Sweet, innocent, gentle and pure
Oh, daughters, trouble we say-- Sly, childlike, artful, and gay!
Rosaleen truly was a flower from the moment she was born--
but that flower came with a curse.
She was entirely too smart for a woman of her class--
But we coped the best we could.
Thank God, thank God, Dalton!
That he turns his head the other way!
When she goes on about books--
Oh, and politics!
So unladylike!
Such subjects that I daren't even say!
Oh, daughters! Flowers for sure-- sweet, innocent, gentle and pure!
Oh, daughters, trouble we say! Sly, childlike, artful, and gay!