A-roving On A Winter's Night Lyrics - Doc Watson

A-rovin' on a winter's night 

And a-drinkin' good old wine, 

Thinkin' about that pretty little girl, 

That broke this heart of mine. 

She is just like a bud of rose, 

That blooms in the month of June. 

Or like some musical instrument, 

That's just been lately tuned. 

Perhaps it's a trip to some foreign land, 

A trip to France or Spain, 

But if I should go ten thousand miles, 

I'm a-comin' home again. 

And it's who's a-gonna shoe your poor little feet, 

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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 love you till the sea runs dry, 

And the rocks all melt in the sun. 

I love you till the day I die, 

Though you will never be my own. 

A-rovin' on a winter's night 

And a-drinkin' good old wine, 

Thinkin' about that pretty little girl, 

That broke this heart of mine. 

Photos