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Oh there's sober men and plenty, and drunkards barely twenty. There are men of over ninety, that have never yet kissed a girl. But give me a rambling Rover, frae Orkney doon to Dover. We will roam the country over, And together we'll face the world. There's many that seek enjoyment, From merciless employment. Their ambition was this deployment, From the minute they left the school. And they save and scrape and ponder, While the rest go out and squander. See the world and rove and wander, And they're happier as a rule. I have roamed through all the nations, And delight in all creations. I enjoyed a wee sensation, Where the company did prove kind. And when parting was no pleasure, I've drunk another measure, Tae the good friends that we treasure, For they always are in our mind. If you're bent with "arthuritis", and your bowels have got colitis, you've got galloping bollockitis, and you're thinking, it's time you died! If you've been a man of action, and you're lying there in traction, you will gain some satisfaction, thinking - Jesus, at least I tried!