I've traveled the seashore from Cardiff to Conwy,

Walked barefoot on the rough Isle of Anglesey,

Been courted by rich men and soldiers and thieves

But a Marcher Lord's daughter is fearless and free.

 

Chorus:

There's many a man who's asked me to marry

But you're not the one for me, O.

No, you're not the one for me.

 

The English girls spite you, Scots lasses will smite you

The Irish one's mad, and she's likely to pike you.

A Welsh maid's a white hart that you must pursue

If you capture her love, then she'll always be true.

 

Chorus.

 

There's many a man that has been brought low

In love, and in war, by a single arrow.

Her eyes, they sparkle; her smile is slow - 

Was a woman from Wales who taught Cupid the bow.

 

Chorus.

 

Brave Glyndwr sighed, as in sorrow he died

Far from the arms of his Cymru bride

Poor bastard's in paradise up in the sky,

And heaven is second to Wales, say the wise.

 

Chorus.

 

So, don't fall in love with a maid of Cymru

Unless you can love both the storm and the sea

You're cunning and bold and you're good company

Your heart it is kind, and your spirit is free.

End/Chorus: (note changes)

Then you are the man that I've waited to marry

Yes, you'll be the one for me, O.

Yes, you'll be the one for me.

Yes, you're the one for me, O.

Yes, you're the one for me.