Born For To Be Travellers

Born for to be travellers of them one can say
The lust of the wander still in them today
Their ancestors roamed the road from town to town
And the restless gene to their descendants passed down
The travellers are born to music and song
They drink and play music sing and dance all night long
Some them in their ways of life don't understand
And they have been sinned against in every Land
Yet they are survivors and their culture lives on
And they retain the links to Seasons long gone
The wanderlust in them until their dying day
They are at their happiest on the roadway
That winds through the countryside uphill and down
As they travel on to the next country town.

by Francis Duggan

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