The Manchester Rambler

(início)

Intro = C G C
Verse 1
C
I've been over Snowdon, I've slept upon Crowdon
                                  G
I've camped by the Waynestones as well
I've sunbathed on Kinder, been burned to a cinder
                           C
And many more things I can tell
                            G
My rucksack has oft been me pillow
                            C
The heather has oft been me bed
                              G
And sooner than part from the mountains
                          C
I think I would rather be dead
Chorus
C                                 G
I'm a rambler, I'm a rambler from Manchester way
                          C
I get all me pleasure the hard moorland way
                        G
I may be a wage slave on Monday
                       C
But I am a free man on Sunday
Verse 2
C
The day was just ending and I was descending
                               G
Down Grinesbrook just by Upper Tor
When a voice cried "Hey you" in the way keepers do
                                C
He'd the worst face that ever I saw
                               G
The things that he said were unpleasant
                           C
In the teeth of his fury I said
                           G
"Sooner than part from the mountains
                          C
I think I would rather be dead"
Chorus
C                                 G
I'm a rambler, I'm a rambler from Manchester way
                          C
I get all me pleasure the hard moorland way
                        G
I may be a wage slave on Monday
                       C
But I am a free man on Sunday
Verse 3
C
He called me a louse and said "Think of the grouse"
                                     G
Well i thought, but I still couldn't see
Why all Kinder Scout and the moors roundabout
                                       C
Couldn't take both the poor grouse and me
                             G
He said "All this land is my master's"
                           C
At that I stood shaking my head
                            G
No man has the right to own mountains
                             C
Any more than the deep ocean bed
Chorus
C                                 G
I'm a rambler, I'm a rambler from Manchester way
                          C
I get all me pleasure the hard moorland way
                        G
I may be a wage slave on Monday
                       C
But I am a free man on Sunday
Verse 3
C
I once loved a maid, a spot welder by trade
                             G
She was fair as the Rowan in bloom
And the bloom of her eye watched the blue moorland sky
                          C
I wooed her from April to June
                                    G
On the day that we should have been married
                      C
I went for a ramble instead
                              G
For sooner than part from the mountains
                          C
I think I would rather be dead
Chorus
C                                 G
I'm a rambler, I'm a rambler from Manchester way
                          C
I get all me pleasure the hard moorland way
                        G
I may be a wage slave on Monday
                       C
But I am a free man on Sunday
Verse 4
C
So I'll walk where I will over mountain and hill
                                  G
And I'll lie where the bracken is deep
I belong to the mountains, the clear running fountains
                                    C
Where the grey rocks lie ragged and steep
                                G
I've seen the white hare in the gullys
                            C
And the curlew fly high overhead
                              G
And sooner than part from the mountains
                          C
I think I would rather be dead
Chorus
C                                 G
I'm a rambler, I'm a rambler from Manchester way
                          C
I get all me pleasure the hard moorland way
                         G
I may be a wage slave on Monday
                       C
But I am a free man on Sunday