Lyrics:
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Come all ye tramps and hawker-lads an' gaitherers o' bla'
That tramp the country roun' and roun', come listen aine and a'.
I'll tell to you a roving tale, of places I have been,
Far up into the snowy north, or sooth by Gretna Green.
Oftimes I've laughed unto myself when trudgin' on the road,
My tore rags round my blistered feet, my face as brown as a toad's.
Wi' lums o' cake an' tattie scones Wi' whangs o' braxy ham
No giein a thought frae whaur I come an' less tae whaur I'm gang.
I've done my share o' humpin' wi' the dockers o' the Clyde,
I've helped in Buckie trawlers haul the herrin' o'er the side.
I helped to build the michty bridge that spans the busy Forth
And wi' mony an Angus fairmer's trick I plooed the bony earth.
I'm happy in the summertime beneath the bright blue sky,
No thinkin' in the mornin' where at night I'll hae to lie.
In barn or byre or anywhere dossin' out among the hay
And if the weather treats me right I'm happy every day.
I've been by bonny Gallowa', an' often roun' Stranraer,
My business leads me anywhere, I travel near an' far.
I've got that rovin' notion, I wouldna like tae loss,
For It's my daily fare an' as much'll pay my doss.
I think I'll gang tae Paddy's Lan', I'm makin' up my mind,
For Scotland's greatly altered noo, I canna raise the wind.
But if I can trust in Providence, if Providence should prove true
I'll sing ye's a' of Erin's Isle when I come back to you.
Words:
Aftimes: often
Bla: blaw, travellers’ cant for oatmeal
Braxy ham: salted meat from a sheep that died of braxy, an intestinal disease
Doss: night’s lodging
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