I'm a freeborn man of the travelin' people;
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Got no fixed abode, with nomads I am numbered.
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Country lanes and byways were always my ways;
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I've never fancied bein' longer.
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Oh, we knew the woods and the restin' places;
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And the small birds sang when winter days were over.
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Then we'd pack our load and be on the road
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Those were good old days for a rover.
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There was open ground where a man could linger
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For a week or two, for time was not our master.
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Then away you'd jog with your horse and dog,
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Nice and easy, no need to go faster.
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Well, I've known life hard and I've known it easy;
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And I've cursed the life when winter's days were dawning;
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But I've laughed and sung through the whole night long;
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Seen the summer sunrise in the morning.
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All you freeborn men of the travelin' people
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Every tinker, rolling stone, or gypsy rover;
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Winds of change are blowin', old ways are going;
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Your travelin' days will soon be over.
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Your travelin' days will soon be over.
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The Travellin' People
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| The Woods Band |
