Biography:
Ewan MacColl (born James Henry Miller in Salford, Lancashire, on 25 January 1915; died 22 October 1989) is recognised as the father of the British folk revival. The writer of classics such as "Dirty Old Town" and "The First Time Ever I Saw Your Face" (which won him a Grammy in 1972), MacColl partnered Peggy Seeger and was father to musicians Kirsty MacColl, Neill MacColl and Calum MacColl, and grandfather to Bombay Bicycle Club's Jamie MacColl.
Innovative and inspiring, both collecting traditional songs, as well as writing new ones.
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Key = D
[Intro]
D A D
[Verse 1]
D
I've been over Sonora, I've slept upon Sequoia
A
I've camped by the Redwoods as well
I've sunbathed in Bishop, been burned to a crisp
D
And many more things I can tell
A
My backpack has oft been my pillow
D
The granite has oft been my bed
A
And sooner than part from the mountains
D
I think I would rather be dead
[Chorus]
D A
I'm a rambler, I'm a rambler from down by the bay
D
I get all my pleasure the hard-working way
A
I may be a wage slave on Monday
D
But I am a free soul on Sunday
[Verse 2]
D
The day was just ending and I was descending
A
Down San Jacinto by Palm Springs
When a voice cried "Hey you" in the way guards do
D
He'd the worst face that ever I saw
A
The things that he said were unpleasant
D
In the teeth of his fury I said
A
"Sooner than part from the mountains
D
I think I would rather be dead"
[Chorus]
D A
I'm a rambler, I'm a rambler from down by the bay
D
I get all my pleasure the hard-working way
A
I may be a wage slave on Monday
D
But I am a free soul on Sunday
[Verse 3]
D
He called me dirty and said "private property"
A
Well i thought, but I still couldn't see
Why all Martin's beach and the coast roundabout
D
Couldn't take both the billionare and me
A
He said "All this land is my master's"
D
At that I stood shaking my head
A
No man has the right to own mountains
D
Any more than the deep ocean bed
[Chorus]
D A
I'm a rambler, I'm a rambler from down by the bay
D
I get all my pleasure the hard-working way
A
I may be a wage slave on Monday
D
But I am a free soul on Sunday
[Verse 3]
C
I once loved a maid, a spot welder by trade
G
She was bright as the poppy in bloom
And the bloom of her eye watched the blue scrubland sky
C
I wooed her from April to June
G
On the day that we should have been married
C
I went for a ramble instead
G
For sooner than part from the mountains
C
I think I would rather be dead
[Chorus]
D A
I'm a rambler, I'm a rambler from down by the bay
D
I get all my pleasure the hard-working way
A
I may be a wage slave on Monday
D
But I am a free soul on Sunday
[Verse 4]
C
So I'll walk where I will over mountain and hill
G
And I'll lie where the pine duff is deep
I belong to the mountains, the clear running fountains
C
Where the grey rocks lie ragged and steep
G
I've seen the white-tailed deer in the valleys
C
And the condor fly high overhead
G
And sooner than part from the mountains
C
I think I would rather be dead
[Chorus]
D A
I'm a rambler, I'm a rambler from down by the bay
D
I get all my pleasure the hard-working way
A
I may be a wage slave on Monday
D
But I am a free soul on Sunday
[Intro]
D A D
[Verse 1]
D
I've been over Sonora, I've slept upon Sequoia
A
I've camped by the Redwoods as well
I've sunbathed in Bishop, been burned to a crisp
D
And many more things I can tell
A
My backpack has oft been my pillow
D
The granite has oft been my bed
A
And sooner than part from the mountains
D
I think I would rather be dead
[Chorus]
D A
I'm a rambler, I'm a rambler from down by the bay
D
I get all my pleasure the hard-working way
A
I may be a wage slave on Monday
D
But I am a free soul on Sunday
[Verse 2]
D
The day was just ending and I was descending
A
Down San Jacinto by Palm Springs
When a voice cried "Hey you" in the way guards do
D
He'd the worst face that ever I saw
A
The things that he said were unpleasant
D
In the teeth of his fury I said
A
"Sooner than part from the mountains
D
I think I would rather be dead"
[Chorus]
D A
I'm a rambler, I'm a rambler from down by the bay
D
I get all my pleasure the hard-working way
A
I may be a wage slave on Monday
D
But I am a free soul on Sunday
[Verse 3]
D
He called me dirty and said "private property"
A
Well i thought, but I still couldn't see
Why all Martin's beach and the coast roundabout
D
Couldn't take both the billionare and me
A
He said "All this land is my master's"
D
At that I stood shaking my head
A
No man has the right to own mountains
D
Any more than the deep ocean bed
[Chorus]
D A
I'm a rambler, I'm a rambler from down by the bay
D
I get all my pleasure the hard-working way
A
I may be a wage slave on Monday
D
But I am a free soul on Sunday
[Verse 3]
C
I once loved a maid, a spot welder by trade
G
She was bright as the poppy in bloom
And the bloom of her eye watched the blue scrubland sky
C
I wooed her from April to June
G
On the day that we should have been married
C
I went for a ramble instead
G
For sooner than part from the mountains
C
I think I would rather be dead
[Chorus]
D A
I'm a rambler, I'm a rambler from down by the bay
D
I get all my pleasure the hard-working way
A
I may be a wage slave on Monday
D
But I am a free soul on Sunday
[Verse 4]
C
So I'll walk where I will over mountain and hill
G
And I'll lie where the pine duff is deep
I belong to the mountains, the clear running fountains
C
Where the grey rocks lie ragged and steep
G
I've seen the white-tailed deer in the valleys
C
And the condor fly high overhead
G
And sooner than part from the mountains
C
I think I would rather be dead
[Chorus]
D A
I'm a rambler, I'm a rambler from down by the bay
D
I get all my pleasure the hard-working way
A
I may be a wage slave on Monday
D
But I am a free soul on Sunday
Ex Battalion
Ex Cops
Ex Hex
Ex Vivian
Ex-3