THE BANKS OF THE ROSES

 

On the banks of the roses
Me love and I set down
And I took off me fiddle
For to play me love a tune
In the middle of the tune, o'
She sighed and she said
Johny, lovely Johny
Would you leave me.

When I was a young lad,
I heard me father say
He'd rather see me dead
And buried in the clay
Rather than be married
To any runaway
On the boney sweet banks of the roses.

Oh, then I am a runaway
And this I'll let you know
That I can take a bottle
And I can let it go
And a man taht doesn't like me,
He can leave me alone
On the boney sweet banks of the roses.

If ever I get married 'twill be
In the month of May
When the leaves they are green
And the meadows they are gay
And me and my true love will sit
And sport and play
By the boney sweet banks of the roses.