Slowly, slowly, walk the path, And you might never stumble or fall. Slowly, slowly, walk the path, And you might never fall in love at all. Golden, golden, is her hair, Like the morning sun over fields of corn. Golden, golden, is her love, So sweet and clear and warm. , , , Wildly, wildly, beats the heart With a rush of love like a mountain stream. Wildly, wildly, play your part As free as a wild bird's dream. Golden, golden, is her hair, Like the morning sun over fields of corn. Golden, golden, is her love, So sweet and clear and warm. , , , Slowly, slowly, walk the path, And you might never stumble or fall. Slowly, slowly, walk the path, And you might never fall in love at all
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