| I’m a travelling man a-moving
|
| You name it I’ve been there
|
| And night and day I strive to sell my wares
|
| Got nothing I can show you
|
| Nothing you can wear
|
| But hang around a while and lend an ear
|
| While travellin' on a freight-train
|
| On the Rocky Island line
|
| My young love said to me My mother she don’t mind
|
| And through twelve gates of the city
|
| I came into my prime
|
| I was singing songs of wild mountain thyme
|
| Sing little birdie
|
| From the greenwood side-o
|
| Where the trees they do grow high
|
| Come say hello
|
| Summer is a-coming
|
| And I’m standing on the shore
|
| And where I’m bound
|
| Oh Lord I can’t be sure
|
| From the Arizona dustbowl
|
| Out to Van Diemons land
|
| To the North-West Passage snowbound
|
| Where Lord Franklin made his stand
|
| While high above I’m flying
|
| With my guitar in my hand
|
| Thinking about one tiny grain of sand
|
| If anyone should ask me If I be a rambling boy
|
| The sporting life
|
| I know I have enjoyed
|
| Met a lady from Louisville
|
| A-pleasing to my mind
|
| She took my hand and said
|
| Would you please be kind
|
| And from the foggy dew I stumbled
|
| Into a shady grove
|
| Where the redbird sang his sweet song
|
| He sang of careless love
|
| And the bells of Rhymney rang out
|
| And brought the people round
|
| Saying welcome to your friendly travelling man
|
| Welcome to your friendly travelling man |