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Originally Posted by BuchananBiker
This sounds like a dang good read.... and gives me an excuse to grab my flintlock and a great kilt and go ranging....
The Rovin' Dies Hard, then? Verse two:
I'm Callum McLean, I'm a trapper by trade
And it's forty long years since I saw Tobermory
Through Canada's forests I've carried my blade (plaid? That's how I hear it)
And the pine trees could tell you my story.
Now my wandering days they are over
But I'm thankful to still be alive
For I've many's the kinsman who died in the hulks
At the end of the bold forty-five.
I've an Indian lass and I'll never deceive her But there's nights when I'd up with my gun and I'd leave her
For the land where the bear and the fox and the beaver are lord
For the rovin' dies hard
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