CHORUS Oh, there're sober men and plenty, And drunkards barely twenty, There are men of over ninety That have never yet kissed a girl. But give me a ramblin' rover, Frae Orkney down to Dover. We will roam the country over And together we'll face the world. 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 are happier as a rule. CHORUS I've roamed through all the nations In delight of all creations, And enjoyed a wee sensation Where the company, it was kind. And when partin' was no pleasure, I've drunk another measure To the good friends that we treasure For they always are in our mind. CHORUS If you're bent wi' arthiritis, Your bowels have got Colitis, You've gallopin' bollockitis And you're thinkin' it's time you died, If you been a man o' action, Though you're lying there in traction, You will get some satisfaction Thinkin', "Jesus, at least I tried." CHORUS
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