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
