Sing to the tune of ‘I’m a rambler’ by English Folk singer Ewan McColl
Chorus
I’m a rambler. I’m a rambler from Shrop-shire way
I get all my pleasure the tolt-ing way
I may be a Fat Pony weekdays
But I am a Sports Horse on Sundays
I’ve hacked o’er Cardings, and galloped the Long Mynd
And grazed on the Stiper Stones as well
I’ve rested at Wenlock, and tolted round TheWrekin
And many more things I can tell
My Mate Roger has oft been my rider
He makes sure that I am watered and fed
And sooner than part from our rambling
I think I would rather be dead
The day was just ending as we were returning
Along a bridleway permitted by law
When a voice cried “Eh you”, in the way people do
He’d the worst face that ever I saw
The things that he said were unpleasant
In the teeth of his fury Roger said
Sooner than part from our rambling
I think I would rather be dead
He called me a waster and yelled, “get off the road”
Well I thought, but I couldn’t see
Why the old by-ways, and the lanes round about
Couldn’t take both the young lout and me
He said, All this land is my father’s
At that Roger stood shaking his head
No man has the right to own byways
Any more than the deep ocean bed
We once entered a show, to see how far we could go
And we practiced from April to June
We are a great partnership, My Mate Roger and I
But the deadline, it came way too soon
On the day that I should have been Champion
We went for a ramble instead
For sooner than part from our rambling
I think I would rather be dead
So I’ll tolt where I will, over mountain and hill
And I lie where the bracken is deep
I belong to the mountains, the clear-running fountains
Where the grey rocks rise rugged and steep
I’ve seen the wild rivers in the gulley
And the skylarks flying high over head
And sooner than part from our rambling
I think I would rather be dead
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