Oh, there're sober men in plenty,
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And drunkards barely twenty,
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There are men of over ninety
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That have never yet kissed a girl.
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But gie me a ramblin' rover,
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And fae Orkney down to Dover.
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We will roam the country over
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And together we'll face the world.
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There's many that feign enjoyment
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From merciless employment,
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Their ambition was this deployment
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From the minute they left the school.
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And they save and scrape and ponder
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While the rest go out and squander,
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See the world and rove and wander
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And are happier as a rule.
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I've roamed through all the nations
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Ta'en delight in all creation,
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And I've tried a wee sensation
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Where the company, did prove kind.
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And when partin' was no pleasure,
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I've drunk another measure
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To the good friends that were treasure
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For they always are in our minds.
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If you're bent wi' arth-i-ritis,
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Your bowels have got colitis,
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You've gallopin' with bollockitis
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And you're thinkin' it's time you died,
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If you been a man of action,
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Though you're lying there in traction,
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You will get some satisfaction
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Thinkin', "Jesus, at least I tried."
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The Ramblin' Rover
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Andy M. Stewart |