THE TAILOR OF THE DALES

(by Andy Hill)

I'm the tailor of the dales
  I work in any weather
I make a patchwork of the land
  and sew it all together
My cloth is pasture, moor, and field;
  rough stone is my thread
And I build my seven yards a day,
  then weary home I tread

	Give me a line and bring me stone
	And good cheese for my bread
	I build my seven yards a day,
	Then weary home I tread

There is no hill can turn my line,
  a steady course I follows
I build across the rugged fells, 
  'cross becks and shady hollows
Dry lime and mortar are no use
  To me, a drystone man
My wall will stand three hundred years:
  I build to nature's plan

	Give me a line ...

When winter comes, the snow will drive me
  From my normal toil
Then like the mole, go underground
  Beneath the frozen soil
Down in the mines I'll break my back
  To dig for silvery lead
For 'tis my lot in this hard life
  To keep my family fed

	Give me a line ...

In spring and summer I enjoy
  The fruits of Mother Earth
High skylarks and sweet meadow flowers
  And good lambs at their birth
Young children laughing in the dale
  And sunshine on my head
I build my seven yards a day
  Then weary home I tread

	Give me a line ...

For I'm the tailor of the dales,
  I work in any weather
I make a patchwork of the land
  And sew it all together
My cloth is pasture, moor, and field;
  Rough stone is my thread
And I build my seven yards a day
  Then weary home I tread

	Give me a line ...

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