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.