As the years roll on I tramp along beside them,
Never have no cares so never need to hide them,
From the sunny north down to the south I roam,
For I guess that I was born a rolling stone.
Sometimes I settle down and the road forgets me,
Then the wanderlust comes on and soon upsets me,
So I down tools and I just leave work alone,
For I guess that I was born a rolling stone.
My mates are far and many as I tramp through out the years,
Some are rich and some are poor but o'er a glass of beer,
They're all decent blokes who share a joke with no distinction shown,
And they're the mates of this old rolling stone.
Yeah, I just take it easy you know.
How my life has changed, to me it seems like magic,
From what I used to be, some say it's tragic,
(Ha ha)
Oh but that's a story better left alone,
For I guess that I was born a rolling stone.
So when I'm on the track and camped beside the highway,
Just a-lazing back an' gazing at God's skyway,
Will my footsteps ever reach that golden drone,
Will they ever welcome in this rolling stone.
Writer(s): David Gordon Kirkpatrick
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