As I Roved Out (The Wind That Shakes The Barley 2010)

Текст песни Loreena McKennitt - As I Roved Out (The Wind That Shakes The Barley 2010)

As I Roved Out LyricsAnd who are you, me pretty fair maid, and who are you, me honey?
And who are you, me pretty fair maid, and who are you, me honey?
She answered me quite modestly, "I am me mother's darling"
With me too-ry-ay, fol-de-diddle-day, di-re fol-de-diddle dai-rie oh

And will you come to me mother's house, when the moon is shining clearly
And will you come to me mother's house, when the moon is shining clearly
I'll open the door and I'll let you in, and divil 'o one would hear us
With me too-ry-ay, fol-de-diddle-day, di-re fol-de-diddle dai-rie oh

So I went to her house in the middle of the night, when the moon was shining clearly
So I went to her house in the middle of the night, when the moon was shining clearly
She opened the door and she let me in, and divil the one did hear us
With me too-ry-ay, fol-de-diddle-day, di-re fol-de-diddle dai-rie oh
She took me horse by the bridle and the bit, and led him to the stable
She took me horse by the bridle and the bit, and led him to the stable
Saying, "There's plenty of oats for a soldier's horse, to eat it if he is able"
With me too-ry-ay, fol-de-diddle-day, di-re fol-de-diddle dai-rie oh

Then she took me by the lily-white hand, and led me to the table
Then she took me by the lily-white hand, and led me to the table
Saying, "There's plenty of wine for a soldier boy, to drink if he is able"
With me too-ry-ay, fol-de-diddle-day, di-re fol-de-diddle dai-rie oh

Then I got up and I made the bed, and I made it nice and aisy
Then I got up and I made the bed, and I made it nice and aisy
Then I got up and laid her down, saying, "Lassie, are you able?"
With me too-ry-ay, fol-de-diddle-day, di-re fol-de-diddle dai-rie oh

And there we lay till the break of day, and divil a one did hear us
And there we lay till the break of day, and divil a one did hear us
Then I arose, put on me clothes, saying, "Lassie, I must leave you"
With me too-ry-ay, fol-de-diddle-day, di-re fol-de-diddle dai-rie oh

And when will you return again, and when will we be married
And when will you return again, and when will we be married
When broken shells make Christmas bells, we might then get married
With me too-ry-ay, fol-de-diddle-day, di-re fol-de-diddle dai-rie oh