The Manchester Rambler

Intro = C G C

Verse 1
C
I've been over Snowdon, I've slept 
upon Crowdon
I've camped by the Waynestones as 
G
well

I've sunbathed on Kinder, been 
burned to a cinder
                           C
And many more things I can tell
                            G
My rucksack has oft been me pillow
                            C
The heather has oft been me bed
And sooner than part from the 
G
mountains
                          C
I think I would rather be dead

Chorus
C                                 
I'm a rambler, I'm a rambler from 
G
Manchester way
                          C
I get all me pleasure the hard 
moorland way
                        G
I may be a wage slave on Monday
                       C
But I am a free man on Sunday

Verse 2
C
The day was just ending and I was 
descending
                               G
Down Grinesbrook just by Upper Tor

When a voice cried "Hey you" in the 
way keepers do
                                C
He'd the worst face that ever I saw
The things that he said were 
  G
unpleasant
                           C
In the teeth of his fury I said
                           G
"Sooner than part from the mountains
                          C
I think I would rather be dead"

Continúa después del anuncio
Eliminar anuncios
Chorus
C                                 
I'm a rambler, I'm a rambler from 
G
Manchester way
                          C
I get all me pleasure the hard 
moorland way
                        G
I may be a wage slave on Monday
                       C
But I am a free man on Sunday

Verse 3
C
He called me a louse and said "Think
 of the grouse"
Well i thought, but I still couldn't
 G
 see

Why all Kinder Scout and the moors 
roundabout
Couldn't take both the poor grouse 
    C
and me
He said "All this land is my 
G
master's"
                           C
At that I stood shaking my head
No man has the right to own 
G
mountains
                             C
Any more than the deep ocean bed

Chorus
C                                 
I'm a rambler, I'm a rambler from 
G
Manchester way
                          C
I get all me pleasure the hard 
moorland way
                        G
I may be a wage slave on Monday
                       C
But I am a free man on Sunday

Verse 3
C
I once loved a maid, a spot welder 
by trade
                             G
She was fair as the Rowan in bloom

And the bloom of her eye watched the
 blue moorland sky
                          C
I wooed her from April to June
On the day that we should have been 
G
married
                      C
I went for a ramble instead
For sooner than part from the 
G
mountains
                          C
I think I would rather be dead

Chorus
C                                 
I'm a rambler, I'm a rambler from 
G
Manchester way
                          C
I get all me pleasure the hard 
moorland way
                        G
I may be a wage slave on Monday
                       C
But I am a free man on Sunday

Verse 4
C
So I'll walk where I will over 
mountain and hill
And I'll lie where the bracken is 
G
deep

I belong to the mountains, the clear
 running fountains
Where the grey rocks lie ragged and 
C
steep
I've seen the white hare in the 
G
gullys
                            C
And the curlew fly high overhead
And sooner than part from the 
G
mountains
                          C
I think I would rather be dead

Chorus
C                                 
I'm a rambler, I'm a rambler from 
G
Manchester way
                          C
I get all me pleasure the hard 
moorland way
                         G
I may be a wage slave on Monday
                       C
But I am a free man on Sunday