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.