A roving, a roving since roving's been my ruin
I'll go no more a roving from you fair maid
In Amsterdam there lives a maid
Mark well what I do say
In Amsterdam there lives a maid
And she was mistress of her trade
I'll go no more a roving from you fair maid
A roving a roving since roving's been my ruin
I'll go no more a roving from you fair maid
Her eyes are like two stars so bright
Mark well what I do say
Her eyes are like two stars so bright
Her face is soft her step is light
I'll go no more a roving from you fair maid
A roving a roving since roving's been my ruin
I'll go no more a roving from you fair maid
Her cheeks are like the rosebud's red,
Mark well what I do say
Her cheeks are like the rosebud's red
There's a wealth of hair upon her head
I go no more a roving from you fair maid
A roving a roving since roving's been my ruin
I'll go no more a roving from you fair maid
Writer(s): Traditional, Robert A White
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