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A Roving In Amsterdam there lived a maid Mark well what I do say. In Amsterdam there lived a maid, And she was mistress of her trade. I'll go no more a roving with thee fair maid. CHORUS: A roving, a roving, since roving's been my ruin I'll go no more a roving with thee fair maid. Her lips were red, her eyes were brown, Mark well what I do say. Her lips were red, her eyes were brown, And her hair was black and it hung right down, I'll go no more a-roving with thee, fair maid. I put my arm around her waist , Mark well what I do say. I put my arm around her waist, Cried she,”Young man you're in great haste.” I'll go no more a-roving with thee, fair maid. I took that maid upon my knee, Mark well what I do say. I took that maid upon my knee, Cried she, “Young man, you're much too free”; I'll go no more a-roving with thee fair maid. I kissed that maid and stole away, Mark well what I do say. I kissed that maid and stole away, She wept- “Young man, why won't you stay “; I'll go no more a-roving with thee, fair maid. |