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The Manchester RamblerI've been over SnowdonI've slept up on CrowdownI've camped by the Winston's as wellI've sun bathed on KinderBeen burned to a cinderAnd many more things I can tellMy rucksack has oft' been my pillowThe heather has oft' been my bedAnd sooner then part from the mountainsI think I would rather be deathChorus:I'm a rambler; I'm a ramblerFrom Manchester wayI get all my pleasure the hard moorland wayI may be a wage-slave on MondayBut I am a free man on SundayThe day was just endingAs I was descendingTrough Grindsbrook just by Upper-ToreWhen a voice cried, 'Hey You'In the way keepers doHe'd the worst face that I ever sawLetras de cancionesThe things that he cried were unpleasantI the teeth of his fury I saidSooner then part from the mountainsI think I would rather be deathChorus,He called me a louseAnd said think of the grouseWell I thought but I still couldn't seeWhy old Kinder scoutAnd the moors round aboutCouldn't take both the poor grouse and meHe said all this land is my mastersAt that I stood shaking my headNo man has the right to own mountainsAny more then the deep ocean bedChorus,I once loved a maidA spot-welder by tradeShe was a fair as the rowan in bloomAnd the bloom of here eyesMocked the June moorland skyAnd I loved here from April too JuneOn the day that we should have been marriedI went for a ramble insteadFor sooner then part from the mountainsI think I would rather be deadChorus,So I'll walk were I willOver mountain and hillAnd I lie where the bracken is deepI belong to the mountainsThe clear running fountainsWhere the grey rock rise rucked and steepI've seen the white hale in the gullyAnd the curlew flies high over headAnd sooner then part from the mountainsI think I would rather be deathChorus. From Letras Mania