| When I was a bachelor young and bold
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| I followed the roving trail
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| The only thing that I ever done wrong
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| I courted a handsome maid
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| I wooed her all the summertime
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| And part of the winter too
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| The only thing I ever done wrong
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| Was to keep off the foggy dew
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| 'Twas on one night about twelve o’clock
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| As I lay fast asleep
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| There came this maid to my bedside
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| And bitterly she did weep
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| She wept, she moaned, she tore her hair
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| And she cried «what shall I do?»
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| So I rolled her into bed
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| And covered up her head
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| For to keep off the foggy dew
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| Well all the first part all that night
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| And we did sport and play
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| And all the latter part of that night
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| Snug in my arms she lay
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| And when the broad daylight appeared
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| She cried «I am undone!»
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| Well hold your tongue
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| My pretty young girl
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| For the foggy dew has gone
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| Well I never told nobody her name
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| And its damned be if I do
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| But it’s often times that i think on that night
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| That I kept off the foggy dew |