when as a boy i ran the heaths
of can-ford and Manning's road
i was a wild n sensitive child
with energy to spare n a runny nose
i rabbited upon lodge hills
with my ferrets in my purse
i climbed the trees
scraped my knees
though i never ever cursed
the heaths were full of heather then
rhododendron bushes bloomed
there were rushes at waterloo estate
lots and lots yellow furze n broom
the birch trees and pines were high n full
of needles and some squirrels
tragaren planted the pines for us
lady guest lived on the moors
the gypsy children had some dogs
i had a dozen too
there were cockerels in the hen house
going cock a doodle doo
the pigs were sows n boars as well
the cowshed was stacked high
there was hay bails in the pig styes
knobby what-ton rang his bell
you could hear the bacon fry
the truant officer waterman
was always calling
from branksome heath fine school
cause i was out a climbing trees
instead of being at school
i ran the high hills of lodge
the tracks of wallisdown
my granfer was a rogers
they sorta ran the ole newtown