-I'm a rambler

<I'm a rambler, I'm a rambler from Manchester way

I get all my pleasure the hard mooreland way

I may be a wage slave on Monday

But I am a free man on Sunday>

I've been over Snowdon and slept among crows And I've camped by the wain stones as well

I sunbathe on kinder and been burned to a cinder and mate all the things I can tell

Me rucksack is often me pillow and the heather is often my bed

But rather than park on the mountain I think I would rather be dead

<...>

The day was just e and I was descending 

Down <?>

When a bloke cried hey you, in the way keepers do, he'd the worst face that ever I saw

The things that he said were unpleasant; in the teeth of his answe anger I said

"But rather than part from the mountains, I think I would rather be dead"

<...>

He called me a louse and said think of the grass; but I thought and I still couldn't see

how a walk and a scout on the moors roundabout couldn't take any more grass than me

He said "all this land is my master's", and at that I stood shaking my head

No man has the right to own mountains any more than the deep ocean bed

<...>

I once loved a maid, a spot welder by trade

She was fair as the Rowan in bloom

And the gloom of her eye washed the clear northern sky; i wooed her from April to June

On the day that we were to be married, I just went for a ramble instead

For rather than part from the mountains, I think I'd rather be dead

<...>

I'll walk where I will over mountain and hill and I'll camp where the bracken is deep

i belong to the mountains and clear running fountains though rarefied, ragged and steep

I sleep with my head in the gully as the birds fly far overhead

And rather than part from the mountains, I think I'd rather be dead

Recorded