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While A-rovin' on a winter's night
And a-drinkin' good old wine,
Thinkin' about that dear little girl,
She broke this heart of mine.
She is like a bud of rose,
That blooms in the month of June.
She's like some musical instrument,
That's just been lately tuned.
And who's a-gonna shoe your poor little feet,
Who's a-gonna glove your little hands?
Who's a-gonna kiss your sweet little lips,
Honey, who's a-gonna be your man?
I will shoe my little foot
And I'm gonna glove my hand
And you can kiss my ruby lips
And you can be my man
Perhaps I'll go to a far off land,
A trip to France or Spain,
But if I go ten thousand miles,
I'm a-comin' back again.