By the banks of the roses my love and I sat down.
And I took out my fiddle for to play my love a tune,
In the middle of the tune, me boy, she smiled and she said,
Oh Johnny, lovely Johnny don't you leave me.
When I was a young man I heard me father say,
That he'd rather see me dead, and buried in the clay,
Sooner than be married to any run away,
By the lovely sweet banks of the roses.
Well now I am no run away and soon I'll have you know,
That I can take the bottle, or I can leave it alone,
And if her daddy doesn't like it, he can keep his daughter home,
And young Johnny will go roving with another.
By the banks of the roses my love and I sat down.
And I took out my fiddle for to play my love a tune,
In the middle of the tune, me boy, she smiled and she said,
Oh Johnny, lovely Johnny don't you leave me.
When I am married, 'twill be in the month of May,
When the leaves they are green, and the meadows they are gay,
Me and my true love will sit and sport and play.
By the lovely sweet banks of the roses.
By the banks of the roses my love and I sat down.
And I took out my fiddle for to play my love a tune,
In the middle of the tune, me boy, she smiled and she said,
Oh Johnny, lovely Johnny don't you leave me.
By the banks of the roses my love and I sat down.
And I took out my fiddle for to play my love a tune,
In the middle of the tune, me boy, she smiled and she said,
Oh Johnny, lovely Johnny don't you leave me.
Oh Johnny, lovely Johnny don't you leave me.