| For years and years I rambled
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| Drank my wines and gambled
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| But one day I thought I’d settle down
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| I met a perfect lady
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| She said she’d be my baby
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| We built a cottage in the old home town
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| But somehow I can’t forget my good old rambling days
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| The railroad trains are calling me always
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| I may be rough, I may be wild
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| I may be tough and counted vile
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| But I can’t give up my good old rough and rowdy ways
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| Sometimes I meet a bounder
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| Who knew me when I was a rounder
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| He grabs my hand and says, «Boy, have a drink»
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| We go down to the poolroom
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| Get in the game and then soon
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| The daylight comes before I’ve had a wink
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| But somehow I can’t forget my good old rambling days
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| The railroad trains are calling me always
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| I may be rough, I may be wild
|
| I may be tough and counted vile
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| But I can’t give up my good old rough and rowdy ways |