Round goes the wheel of fortune
Don't be afraid to ride
There's a land of milk and honey
Waits on the other side
There'll be peace and there'll be plenty
You'll never need to roam

Chorus
When we go rolling home, when we go rolling home.
Rolling home, when we go rolling home
When we go rolling, rolling, when we go rolling home

The gentry in their fine array
Do prosper night and morn
While we unto the fields must go
To plough and sow their corn
The rich may steal the power
But the glory's ours alone

The frost is on the hedgerow
The icy winds do blow
While we poor weary labourers
Strive through the driving snow
Our dreams fly up to glory
Up where the lark has flown

The summer of resentment
The winter of despair
The journey to contentment
Is set with trap and snare
Stand to and stand together
Your labour's yours alone

So pass the bottle round
And let the toast go free
Here's a health to every labourer
Wherever they may be
Fair wages now and ever
Let's reap what we have sown

Words by John Tams, Written for the play, Cider With Rosie, a dramatisation originally produced in 1983 of the 1959 book by Laurie Lee [1914-1997] and adapted by Ken Bramman