I'm a freeborn man of the travelin' people;
Got no fixed abode, with nomads I am numbered
Country lanes and byways were always my ways;
I've never fancied bein' longer

Oh, we knew the woods and the restin' 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 a rover

There was open ground where a man could linger
For a week or two, for time was not our master
Then away you'd jog with your 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's 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 travelin' people
Every tinker, rolling stone, or gypsy rover;
Winds of change are blowin', old ways are going;
Your travelin' days will soon be over
Your travelin' days will soon be over