I'm a working man,
And I've got working hands,
And I've worked the land for ages, hmm.

But the toll this life has taken,
Is a back that’s always aching,
And if my scars could tell their tales,
It'd take a long, long time,
You'd hear about broken bones and splinters.

Yeah, tankard ales and long dark winters,
A laureate who’s not worried at the rhyme.

Oh but when the rain comes down,
I stop the rain from falling on the ground.

I'm a working man,
And I've got working hands,
I've worked the land for ages, hmm,
For ages, hmm.