Maid of Amsterdam (A-Rovin’)
In Amsterdam I met a maid
Mark well what I do say!
In Amsterdam I met a maid
She’s always mistress of her trade
I’ll go no more a roving with you fair maid
A Roving A Roving
Since Roving’s been my ru-i-n
No more I’ll go a roving with you fair maid
Her eyes were blue, her skin was brown
Her hair was black and hanging down
I met this fair maid after dark
And took her to her favourite park.
I took this fair maid for a walk
I bought her gin and could she talk
I put me arm around her waist
Sez she, ‘Young man, you’re in great haste!’
I put my hand upon her knee
Sez she, ‘Young man you’re rather free!’
I put my hand upon her thigh
Sez she, ‘Young man you’re rather high!’
I put my hand apon her breast
And the wind picked up from the south south west
Then we parted with a kiss
But when on board my purse I missed
