On the banks of the roses my love and I sat down And I took out my fiddle to play my love a tune
In the middle of the tune she sighed and said to me Oh Johnny, lovely Johnny would you leave me
When I was just a young lad I heard my father say I'd sooner see you dead and burried in the clay Rather than be married to a runaway On the lovely sweet banks of the roses If ever I get married it will be the month of may When the leaves they are green and the meadows are grey And me and my true love we'll sit here an play By the lovely sweet banks of the roses