The Rambling Bhoys
Uncle Bard and the Dirty Bastards Lyrics

And we rove and we rove and we rove again
We travel and wander without settling down

Tired in the legs but never in the head
We may be physically exhausted, but our spirits remain high and excited

We are the rambling bhoys of pleasure
We are carefree wanderers, seeking fun and enjoyment

Drinking without measure
We indulge in alcohol without any limits

And we take delight in good company
We enjoy the company of those around us

I’ve been plumber, brickie, coder
I have had various jobs, such as plumbing, bricklaying, and coding

Carpenter, house mover
I have also worked as a carpenter and moved houses

Some wages I collected
I earned some money

But those days are now over
Those days are in the past

When I got a penny more
When I earned even a small amount more money

Of what's needed to survive
Than what was necessary for basic survival

I considered myself rich,
I felt wealthy and satisfied

Sure that t′was enough
Convinced that it was sufficient

Now I leave me safe ground
Now I am venturing out of my familiar surroundings

And I start to get around
And I begin to explore and travel

Searching for some happiness
Looking for joy and contentment

And each day share a round
And each day have a drink with others

It’s surely better to regret
It is certainly preferable to feel regret for something done

What’s been done in the past
Than to regret never having done something at all

That something never done
Something that was not accomplished or experienced

For our lack of guts
Because we lacked the courage or audacity to pursue it

Sometimes I wish I could be back
Occasionally, I yearn to return

In lovely Dublin town
To the charming city of Dublin

Although the times are changed
Even though much has transformed since then

And me friends are gone so far
And my friends have scattered and moved away

We spent our afternoons there
We passed our afternoons there

Just drinking in the pub
Simply drinking alcohol at the pub

And talking ′bout a poem
And discussing a poem

Or a song of times gone by
Or a song from the past

Sometimes the days are hard
Occasionally, the days are difficult

Sometimes me throat is dry
At times, my throat is parched

But I take refuge in a pub
But I seek refuge and comfort in a pub

And I′m happy as a child
And I feel joyous and carefree

I enjoy the good old pleasures
I appreciate and savor simple, traditional pleasures

The craic, the drink, the leisure
The socializing, alcohol, and relaxation

And I forget the troubles
And I temporarily escape from my problems

With a pint of plain in hand
With a glass of a basic, unflavored beer in my possession