Running to Paradise

   Em           Hm 
As I came over Windy Gap 
        D              Am 
They threw a halfpenny into my cap, 
    G             C      D 
For I am running to Paradise; 
    G                D 
And all that I need do is to wish 
     Am                C 
And somebody puts his hand into dish 
      Em              Hm 
To throw me a bit of salted fish: 
      D                           Em 
And there the king is but as the beggar. 
 
My brother Mourteen is worn out 
In skelping his big brawling lout, 
And I am running to Paradise; 
A poor life, do what he can, 
And though he keep a dog and a gun, 
A serving-maid and a serving-man: 
And there the king is but as the beggar. 
 
Poor men have grown to be rich men, 
And rich men grown to be poor again, 
And I am running to Paradise; 
And many a darling wit‘s grown dull 
That tossed a bare heel when at school 
Now it has filled an old sock full: 
And there the king is but as the beggar. 
 
The wind is old and still at play 
While I must hurry upon my way, 
For I am running to Paradise; 
Yet never have I lit on a friend 
To take my fancy like the wind 
That nobody can buy or bind: 
And there the king is but as the beggar.