In the grey of the gloomin' there sits an old man
With a glint in his eye and a gla** in his hand
And he sings tae the new day when the old day is done
Cryin' where are my daughters and where are my sons
It's rovin' for pleasure by mountain and stream
Rovin' for sorrow of whiskey from dreams
Rovin' for fortune on a far foreign shore
At the back o' the northwind it's rovin' no more
The old woman pools at the ol' shuttle wheel
She sings of the cradle the plow and the creel
She sings tao the berns as she weaves and she stems
An old womens song tae the tune o' the winds
It's rovin' for pleasure by mountain and stream
Rovin' for sorrow of whiskey from dreams
Rovin' for fortune on a far foreign shore
At the back o' the northwind it's rovin' no more
There's a maiden who scatters the seed on the land
But the wind takes it's share of the seed from her hand
That others might harvest what Scotland can sow
As far as the blast of the northwind can blow
It's rovin' for pleasure by mountain and stream
Rovin' for sorrow of whiskey from dreams
Rovin' for fortune on a far foreign shore
At the back o' the northwind it's rovin' no more
At the back o' the northwind it's rovin' no more