Will yo come o Sunday Mornin?
Will Yo come o' Sunday Mornin?
For a walk o'er Winter Hill?
Ten thousand went last Sunday
But there's room for thousands still!
O the moors are rae an bonny,
An the heathers sweet an fine,
an the road across the hill tops
is the public's - yours and mine
Chorus
So come o' Sunday mornin
For a walko'er Winter Hill,
Ten thousand went last Sunday,
But there's Room for thousands still.
Oh shame upon the landlord
that would thrutch us up in town!
Against such Christless conduct
We will put our feet firm down!
Ay, we'll put our feet down strongly,
Until we've clearly showed
Twenty thousand feet each sunday
Can soon mark out a road!
Chorus
Must Poor folk stroll in cinders
While the rich cop all the green?
Is England but the landlord's
Who locks up each pretty scene?
If they only could, these tyrants
Would enclose the road to heaven!
So let us up an fight 'em
Even seventy times an seven!
Chorus