I'm a freeborn man of the traveling people
Got no fixed abode, with nomads I have wandered
Country lanes and byways were always my ways
I never fancied being numbered
Oh we knew the woods and the resting places
And the small birds sang when winter days were over
Then we'd pack our load and be on the road
Those were good old days for the rover
All you freeborn men of the traveling people
Every tinker, rolling stone and gypsy rover
Winds of change are blowing, old ways are going
Your traveling days will soon be over
There was open ground where a man could linger
For a week or two, for time was not our master
Then away we'd jog with our horse and dog
Nice and easy, no need to go faster
Well, I've known life hard and I've known it easy
And I've cursed the life when winter days were dawning
But I've laughed and sung through the whole night long
Seen the summer sunrise in the morning
All you freeborn men of the traveling people
Every tinker, rolling stone and gypsy rover
Winds of change are blowing, old ways are going
Your traveling days will soon be over
Your traveling days will soon be over
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Writer(s): Ewan Maccoll
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