Phil Drane Passing Time
Alfred was an English lad, from Blackburn, Lancashire,
At the age of twenty three he took a trip up North to Windermere,
Where the Lakeland Fells, can stir the soul of a man
That's how Alfred's love affair with Cumbria began
Now it's 80 years since Wainright first set foot in Windermere
When he scrambled up to Orrest Head, on that morning bright and clear
He saw woodlands and pastures green, how endless mountains ranged
And the office lad from Lancashire, his life forever changed
Now he guides our footsteps over those ancestral byways
Uncharted paths our forebears trod before,
Now his pictures and his words, set us free to soar like birds
Over Cumbrian hillside, beck and moor
Pike o'Stickle, soaring, like a pyramid stands alone
And on Martcrag Moor, Neolithic man carved axes made of stone
And in these Central Fells why not bide and drink your fill
For there's warm ale and good company in the bar of the Dungeon Ghyll
Now Alfred guides us over the highest of mountains,
Scawfell Pike, Helvellyn, Great Gable and Skiddaw,
And if the great outdoors, the fells and moors are what set your spirit free,
The Cumbrian hills is where you'll be
Walking with Wainright and me
By the lofty ridge of Mickledore, across the wide Traverse
Through the cleft called Fat Man's Agony, that all but thin men curse
These Southern Fells, Alfred's words commend it's worth
'A little piece of heaven that has fallen on the earth'
By Bassenthwaite and Derwent then, the sweeping slopes pass by
Beyond The Edge and Buzzard Nott, Gibraltar Crag stands high
Here in the Northern Fells, John Peel did a-hunting go
But above the ghylls and the rolling hills, Blencathra steals the show
Now Alfred guides us etc
Now Alfred guides us over the highest of mountains,
Scawfell Pike, Helvellyn, Great Gable and Skiddaw,
And if the great outdoors, the fells and moors are what set your spirit free,
The Cumbrian hills is where you'll be
Walking with Wainright, Walking with Wainright
Walking with Wainright and me
Walking with Wainright and me
