THE TRAMP

Jack, the tramp, was a cheery old scamp

                And he lived a vagrant life.

Blow foul or fair, Jack knew no care,

                He had neither house nor wife.

He might feel cold but he never felt old

                For his heart was always young;

He tramped contentand sung as he went,

                And this is the song he sung.

( Chorus)

A tramp’s life is a happy life

                His only roof the sky.

A tramp’s life is a jolly life

                And here’s the reason why.

There’s no life like tramping

                In open spaces camping

You’ll live while you keep tramping

                For you must lie down to die.

Now Jack was cursed with a quenchless thirst

                And his favourite drink was rum

But when funds were low, which was often so,

                He would sample whatever come.

And he said that a drink made a fellow think

                It was still worth while to live.

So he gave his song as he tramped along

                It was all he had to give.

( Chorus)

The years went by as years will fly

                And Jack at last grew old

One winter night as the earth was white,

                We found him stark and cold.

So we planted him down in the kindly ground

                In a grave six foot by three.

And it may seem hard but the same regard,

                Will be shown to you and me.