Go Home, Girl! - Gaelic Storm

Don’t say that you’re in love with me

Listen to what I say

You’re too young to come with me

I must be on me way

And stop your silly crying, love

How can I make you see

That I’m a gypsy rover, love

And you’ll not come with me

Go home, girl, go home

Go home

And I met you at the market

When your mam was not with you

You liked me long brown ringlets

And me handkerchief of blue

And although I’m very fond of you

You asked me home to tea

But I’m a gypsy rover, love

And you’ll not come with me

Go home, girl, go home

Go home

And your brother is a peeler

And would lock me up in the jail

If he knew I was a poacher

And I hunt your lord’s best quail

Well your daddy is a gentleman

Your mammy just as grand

But I’m a gypsy rover, love

And I’ll not be your man

Go home, girl, go home

Go home

Well the hour’s drawing long, my love

Your mam’s expecting thee

Don’t tell her that you met me here

Or I’m a gypsy free

And let’s get off me jacket now

Your love will have to wait

For I am twenty-two years old

And you, you’re only eight

Go home, girl, go home

Go home