I am a brisk lad and my fortune's quite bad
In fact it is wondrous poor
But it's I do intend my fortune to mend
And I'll build me an house down on the moor, my brave boys
I will build me an house down on the moor

The father he keeps fat oxen and sheep
And a neat little nag on the down
But in the middle of the night when the moon it shines bright
There's a number of jobs to be done, my brave boys
There's a number of jobs to be done

So I'll roam around on some other man's ground
I'll take a fat ewe from his pack
And with the aid of my knifе, I'll shorten its life
And I'll carry him home on my back, mе brave boys
I'll carry him home on my back

Then my children shall pull the skin from the wool
I'll carve him up to the bone
And when the constable do come I'll stand here with my gun
And I'll swear all I have is my own, my brave boys
I will swear all I have is my own