| Oh there’s sober men &plenty
|
| And drunkards barely twenty
|
| There are men of over ninety
|
| That have never yet kissed a girl.
|
| But give me a rambling rover
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| Fae Orkney down to Dover
|
| We will roam the country over
|
| And together we’ll face the world.
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| I’ve roamed through all the nations
|
| Ta’en delight in all creation
|
| And I’ve tried a wee sensation
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| Where the company did prove kind.
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| When parting was no pleasure
|
| I’ve drunk another measure
|
| To the good friends that we treasure
|
| For they always are in our mind.
|
| There’s many that feign enjoyment
|
| From merciless employment
|
| Their ambition was this deployment
|
| From the minute they left the school
|
| And they save and scrape and ponder,
|
| While the rest go out and squander
|
| See the world and rove and wander —
|
| And they’re happier as a rule.
|
| If you’re bent with arthritis
|
| Your bowels have got colitis
|
| You’ve galloping ballicitus
|
| And you’re thinking it’s time you died.
|
| If you’ve been a man of action
|
| While you’re lying there in traction
|
| You may gain some satisfaction
|
| Thinking Jesus, at least I’ve tried. |