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Learned from the singing of John Kirkpatrick
lyrics
Rambling Comber
You combers all both great and small
Come listen to my ditty
For it is ye and only ye
Regard my form with pity
For I can write, read, dance and fight
Indeed it’s all my honour
But oh my dear, I love strong beer
For I’m a rambling comber
It’s on the tramp I’m forced to scamp
My shoes are all a tatter
My hose unbound trail on the ground
I seldom wear a garter
I have a coat scarce worth a groat
And surely want for another
But oh my dear, I love strong beer
For I’m a rambling comber
I have no watch, I have a patch
On both sides of my breeches
My hat is torn, my wig is worn
My health is all my riches
Would that I had some gay gold lace
My clothing to embroider
And a charming lass to fill my glass
For I’m a rambling comber
A tailor’s bill I’ll seldom fill
I never do take measure
I have no debt that will me let
In the taking of my pleasure
Nor ever will ’til I grow old
When I must give it over
For then old age will me engage
For being a rambling comber
A pitcher boy I will employ
While I have cash or credit
I’ll rant and roar and call for more
And pay them when I have it
For this is always on my mind
Be I drunk or sober
A bowl of punch my thirst to quench
A quart of old October