Текст песни: The Manchester Rambler + перевод

I’ve been over Snowdon, I’ve slept upon Crowdon

I’ve camped by the Waynestones as well

I’ve sunbathed on Kinder, been burned to a cinder

And many more things I can tell

My rucksack has oft been my pillow

The heather has oft been my bed

And sooner than part from the mountains

I think I would rather be dead

I’m a rambler, I’m a rambler from Manchester way

I get all my pleasure the hard moorland way

I may be a wageslave on Monday

But I am a free man on Sunday

The day was just ending and I was descending

Down Grinesbrook just by Upper Tor

When a voice cried «Hey you"in the way keepers do

He’d the worst face that ever I saw

The things that he said were unpleasant

In the teeth of his fury I said

«Sooner than part from the mountains

I think I would rather be dead»

I’m a rambler, I’m a rambler from Manchester way

I get all my pleasure the hard moorland way

I may be a wageslave on Monday

But I am a free man on Sunday

He called me a louse and said «Think of the grouse»

Well i thought, but I still couldn’t see

Why all Kinder Scout and the moors roundabout

Couldn’t take both the poor grouse and me

He said «All this land is my master’s»

At that I stood shaking my head

No man has the right to own mountains

Any more than the deep ocean bed

I’m a rambler, I’m a rambler from Manchester way

I get all my pleasure the hard moorland way

I may be a wageslave on Monday

But I am a free man on Sunday

I’m a rambler, I’m a rambler from Manchester way

I get all me pleasure the hard moorland way

I may be a wageslave on Monday

But I am a free man on Sunday

Перевод песни The Manchester Rambler