Lyrics

I am a mountainy farmer well fitting to work and toil
Through rocks and through the whins to coax a living from the soil
I can’t afford a holiday nor get myself a wife
For a woman does not want to share in a mountainy farmer’s life.

For a score o’ years or more I’ve been a single man
My parents they died sudden and sure they left to me the land
My sisters emigrated unto a foreign land
And since the day they went away I live here all alone.

I have ten statute acres of land that I can till
I have forty five wee black faced ewes I graze them on the hill
I have a horse and cow or two few hens but they are old
And a wee black collie dog he’s far dearer to me than gold.

Well the crop it is all in sure the turf I have to save
I haven’t time to wash myself nor I haven’t time to shave
I go down til the grocer he’s always in a rush
To have a chat then with the boys we go out to the bush.

My whole life is a misery hard work and little gain
My legs are bent with climbing hills my shoulders wrecked with pain
I’ll fight no more with the mountains nor with the rocks or whins
I’ll rise no fuss but I’ll take the bus into the Nazareth nuns.

see also   The mountainy farmer / John Walker