Tonalité : D major
Verse 1
D
G
A
D
I've been over Snowdon,
I've slept upon Crodon,
I've camped by the Waynestones
A
as well. I've sunbathed on kinder,
been burnt to a cinder,
D
and many more things I can tell.
A
My rucksack has oft been my pillow
D
And the heather has oft been my bed
A
And sooner than part from the mountains
G
A
D
I think I would rather be dead
A
D
I'm a rambler,
A
D
A
I'm a rambler from Manchester way
D
I get all my pleasure the wild moorland way
A
I may be a wage slave on Monday,
G
A
D
But I am a free man on Sunday.
The day was just ending
A
D
as I was descending
A
Down Grimes Brook just by Upper Thorn.
When a voice said, you,
the way gamekeepers do,
He had the worst face that I ever saw.
D
Now the things that he
A
said were unpleasant,
D
But in the teeth of his fury I said,
A
That sooner than part from the mountains,
G
A
D
I think I would rather be dead.
He called me a louse, then said,
think of the grouse,
Well I thought, but I still couldn't see,
A
Why all kinder scouts
and the moors round about
Couldn't take both
D
the poor grouse and me
A
He said, all this land is my master's
D
At that I stood shaking me head
A
For how can a man own a mountain
G
A
D
Any more than the deep ocean bed
A
D
I'm a rambler,
I'm a rambler
A
from Manchester way
D
I get on with pleasure the wild moorland way
A
I may be a wage slave on Monday
G
A
D
But I am a free man on Sunday
I once loved a maid,
a spot welder by trade
A
She was fair as the rowan in bloom
And the blue of her eye
matched the May morning sky
D
I wooed her from April till June
A
D
On the day that we should
A
have been married
D
I went for a ramble instead
A
D
A
Her sooner than part from the mountains
G
A
D
I think I would rather be dead.
A
D
I'm a rambler,
A
I'm a rambler from Manchester way.
I get on at pleasure the wild
D
moorland way.
A
I may be a wage slave on Monday,
G
A
D
but I am a free man on Sunday.
So I'll walk where I will over mountain or hill.
A
I lie where the bracken is deep
I belong to the mountain,
to the clear running fountain
Where the grey rocks rise
D
rugged and steep
A
I've seen the white hare in the gully
And the curl you fly high overhead
D
A
And sooner than part from the mountains
G
A
D
I think I would rather be dead.
A
D
I'm a rambler,
A
I'm a rambler from Manchester way.
I get all my pleasure the
D
wild moorland way.
A
I may be a wage slave on Monday,
G
A
D
But I am a free man on Sunday.
A
D
I'm a rambler,
A
I'm a rambler from Manchester way.
I get all my pleasure the wild moorland way.
D
A
I may be a wage slave on Monday,
G
D
A
D
But I am a free man on Sunday.
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