I chase your every footstep and I follow every whim. When you call the tune I'm ready to strike up the battle hymn. My lady of the meadows --- My comber of the beach --- You've thrown the stick for your dog's trick but it's floating out of reach. The long road is a rainbow and the pot of gold lies there. So slip the chain and I'm off again --- You'll find me everywhere. I'm a Rover.
As the robin craves the summer to hide his smock of red, I need the pillow of your hair in which to hide my head. I'm simple in my sadness, resourceful in remorse. Then I'm down straining at the lead --- holding on a windward course.
Strip me from the bundle of balloons at every fair: colourful and carefree --- Designed to make you stare. But I'm lost and I'm losing the thread that holds me down. And I'm up hot and rising in the lights of every town.
