The whistler

I`ll buy you six bay mares, to put in your stable; Six golden apples bought with my pay. I am the first piper who calls the sweet tune But I must be gone by the seventh day. So come on - I`m the Whistler. I have a fife and a drum to play. Get ready - for the Whistler. I whistle along on the seventh day. Whistle along on the seventh day. All kinds of sadness I`ve left behind me. Many`s the day when I have done wrong. But I`ll be yours for ever and ever. Climb in the saddle and whistle along. So come on - I`m the Whistler. I have a fife and a drum to play. Get ready - for the Whistler. I whistle along on the seventh day. Whistle along on the seventh day. Deep red are the sunsets in mystical places. Black are the nights on summer-day sands. We`ll find the speck of truth in each riddle: Hold the first grain of love in our hands So come on - I`m the Whistler. I have a fife and a drum to play. Get ready - for the Whistler. I whistle along on the seventh day. So come on - I`m a Whistler. I have a fife and a drum to play. Get ready - for the Whistler. I whistle along on the seventh day. Whistle along on the seventh day.