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Come saddle tae me my auld grey mare,
Come saddle tae me my pretty, O,
I’ll tak the road an’ I’m gaun far awa’,
Awa wi’ the rovin’ ploughboy, O!

Ploughboy, O! Ploughboy, O!
I’ll follow the rovin’ ploughboy, O!

Last night I lay on a fine feather bed,
Sheets and blankets sae cosy-o,
To-night I maun lie in a cauld barn shed
Row’d in the arms o’ my ploughboy-o.

Champion ploughboy my Geordie lad,
Cups and medals and prizes-o,
In bonnie Deveronside there’s nane can compare
Wi’ my jolly rovin’ ploughboy-o.

So fare ye weel tae auld Huntly toon,
Fare ye weel Drumdelgie O,
For noo I’m on the road and I’m gaun far away,
Awa’ wi’ the rovin’ ploughboy-o.

Footnote: A song with shades of traditional ballads about  the lady of the big houss running off with a gypsy – ploughmen obviously thought themselves ‘no small drink’! Of course with the Horseman’s Word they were supposed to control both horse and women!!



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