I Walk The Road Again
Arranged and adapted by:
Publisher:
Bob Harter - LST7330
I am a poor unlucky chap, I'm very fond of rum
I walk the road from morn to night, I ain't afraid to bum.
My feet being sore, my clothes being tore
But still I didn't complain;
I got up and I hoisted my turkey and
I walked the road again.
I walked the road again, me boys
I walked the road again;
If the weather be fair I combed my hair and
I walked the road again.
I worked In the Susquehanna Yard,
We got one dollar a day,
Toiling hard to make a living, boys,
I hardly think she pays.
They said they'd raise our wages,
If they do, I won't complain;
If they don't, I'll hoist my turkey
And walk the road again.
I walked the road again, me boys
I walked the road again;
If the weather be fair I combed my hair and
I walked the road again.
From New York into Buffalo
I tramped it all the way,
I slept in brickyards and old log barns
Until the break of day.
My feet being sore, my clothes being tore
But still I didn't complain.
I got up and I hoisted my turkey
And I walked the road again.
I walked the road again, me boys
I walked the road again;
If the weather be fair I combed my hair and
I walked the road again.
I worked along for about a month,
Then I got some cash,
I went upon a spree, me boys,
My money went to smash.
A devil of a cent did I have left,
But yet I didn't complain,
I got up and hoisted my turkey
And I walked the road again.
I walked the road again, me boys
I walked the road again;
If the weather be fair I combed my hair and
I walked the road again.
Now I'm on the road, me boys,
For a place I do not know;
Misfortune, you are cru-el,
Why did you treat me so?
A devil that sits upon me back,
That's what makes me sore;
If ever I did strike a job again
I'll walk the road no more
