A-roving on a Winter's night
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A-roving on a winter's night
And a-drinking Gordo wine
A-thinking all about that pretty little girl
She broke this heart of mine
She is just like a butter rose
That blooms in the month of June
She is like some musical instrument
That has just been laid by tune
So perhaps it is a trip to a foreign land
Some trip to France or Spain
But though I'd go ten thousand miles
I am coming back again
But tell me who is gonna shoe your poor little foot
And who will glove your tiny hand
Tell me who is gonna kiss your sweet, sweet lips
Tell me who will be your man
I will love you 'til all the seas run dry
And the rocks all melt in the sun
I will love you 'til the day I die
Though you'll never be my own
A-roving on a winter's night
And a-drinking Gordo wine
A-thinking all about that pretty little girl
She broke this heart of mine