Rambleaway

As I go a-walking down Birmingham Street
In my new scarlet jacket all neat and complete,
The girls all say as they pass me by,
"Is that the young man they call Rambleaway?"
As I was a-walking to Birmingham Fair
I saw lovely Nancy a-curling her hair.
I tipped her the wink and she rolled her dark eye,
And said I to myself, "I'll be there by and by."

As I was out walking that night in the dark
I took lovely Nancy to be my sweetheart;
She smiled in my face and to me she did say,
"Aren't you the young man they call Rambleaway?"

I said, "My dear Nancy, don't smile in my face,
For I do not intend to stay long in this place."
"Then where are you going, come tell me, my dear."
I told her I'd ramble the devil knows where.

Before twelve weeks was over and past
This pretty young Nancy, she grew sick at last.
Her dress wouldn't pin nor her apron strings tie
And she longed for the sight of young Rambleaway.

My dad and my mother have both come from home.
But when they return I won't sit down and mourn
I'll tell them the story and leave them to say,
"Well, no doubt she's been playing with young Rambleaway."

So come all you young ladies, take a warning by me,
When courting the boys, don't be easy and free.
Just dress yourselves up as you step out to pay
But take care if you meet with young Rambleaway.