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.