I Will Go to the Distant Hills - Kvitka Cisyk

A-rovin', oh, a-rovin', oh I will go a-rovin, oh The wind may blow And the storm may snow But I will go a-rovin Fare you well my turtledove, it's time that I was leavin' But I'll come back this way again, so I hope you'll not be grievin' And if you ever think on me, I hope it's with a high degree For I will kindly think on thee when I am on my rovin' A-rovin', oh, a-rovin', oh I will go a-rovin, oh The wind may blow And the storm may snow But I will go a-rovin I was born a tinker's son in the mountains of Killarney I've seen the sights of Ireland, boys, from Rathlin down to Blarney Sometimes I sleep upon the ground, or featherbed with eiderdown But only God knows where I'm bound when I'm on my rovin' A-rovin', oh, a-rovin', oh I will go a-rovin, oh The wind may blow And the storm may snow But I will go a-rovin I know the pathways through the glens, the country lanes, and byways I've tramped the bogs and found my way down rocky roads and highways The rovin' trade must be the best, for when you're tired you sit and rest And while the sun sets in the west, I will go a-rovin' A-rovin', oh, a-rovin', oh I will go a-rovin, oh The wind may blow And the storm may snow But I will go a-rovin Now I wouldn't trade my life at all, for the King of Spain's own riches I'm happy ramblin' round the hills and jumpin' streams and ditches For when the wine is flowin' free, and I've a lassie on my knee There's not a man content as me, when I am on my rovin' A-rovin', oh, a-rovin', oh I will go a-rovin, oh The wind may blow And the storm may snow But I will go a-rovin A-rovin', oh, a-rovin', oh I will go a-rovin, oh The wind may blow And the storm may snow But I will go a-rovin