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.