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 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


Oh, 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 sun rise in the morning

All you freeborn men of the traveling people

Every tinker, rolling stone, and gypsy rover
The winds of change are blowing. Old ways are going
Your travelin' days will soon be over