A-roving we went, my true love and I
Amongst the corn and the maize,
When deawth leaned in with his sickle and clock
And swept my true love away.
I have followed the nightjar home to her bed
I have followed the sound of her heart,
Over field and valley I've counted them fly
And the seventh is always apart.
So a-roving I'll go through my fields once more
With my ear to the maize and the corn,
And wait for the day that death comes for me
To carry me back to her arms.
Writer(s): Jessica Curry
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