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.
Writer(s): Ian Anderson
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