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.