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The Manchester Rambler
by
The Dubliners
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I've been over Snowdon I've slept up on Crowdown I've camped by the Winston's as well I've sun bathed on Kinder Been burned to a cinder And many more things I can tell My rucksack has oft' been my pillow The heather has oft' been my bed And sooner than part from the mountains I think I would rather be dead I'm a rambler, I'm a rambler From Manchester way I get all my pleasure the hard moorland way I may be a wage-slave on Monday But I am a free man on Sunday The day was just ending As I was descending Near Grindsbrook just by Upper-Tore When a voice cried, "Hey You" In the way keepers do He'd the worst face that I ever saw The things that he cried were unpleasant I the teeth of his fury I said Sooner then part from the mountains I think I would rather be dead
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