Son of a Gambolier (Charles Ives, alternate lyrics by Craig Lutke)
I'm a rambling rake of poverty
From the ragin' seas I came
'Twas poverty compelled me first
To go out in the rain
In all accounts of weather
Be it wet or be it dry
I'll sing to earn me livelihood
Or lay me down and die
(Chorus)
I'll combine me humble ditties
And from inn to inn I steer
I'm a right and honest fellow and
I drinks me lager beer
I'm a singin' pirate fellow and
I takes me whiskey clear
For I'm a rambling rake of poverty
And the son of a gambolier
I once was a rich and handsome
Pirate and so very neat
They thought I was too good to live
Most good enough to eat
But now I'm just a singin' man
And poverty holds me fast
And every girl turns up her nose
As I go wandering past
I'm a rambling rake of poverty
From the ragin' seas I came
My coat I stole from a blind old man
Who was too slow with his cane
My hat I got as a captain past
Ten years now to this day
And my songs I picked from a pile of tunes
Which no man wanted to play
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