I've twenty five acres, enough for my needs
But it's other men's cattle I'll water and feed
One day I will pay for this life that I lead
I'm a thief from the edge of the moor
My uncle and me got it down to an art
We set out for stealing not long after dark
For the fields and the farms where it's easy to park
And the way back to home is secure
One cold winter's night after Tavistock Fair
Stolen sheep in our trailer and rain in the air
I felt the flat tyre and I reached for the spare
By the side of the A38
But the bolts on the wheel must have rusted in place
I'm under the Landy with spray in my face
And less than an hour to get out of that place
Cursing our bad luck and fate
There's no transportation down under
No gallows in the old County jail
At best in the morning, we're fined with a warning
At worst in the evening, we're back out on bail
And then I saw in the distance this flashing blue light
Two feet and a loud voice came out of the night
Asking if everything here was alright
And would we be soon on our way?
So John said he'd better get help on the phone
And in the distance I'm hearing his soft urgent tones
But this officer he wouldn't leave it alone
His torch on my back number plate
Instead of the AA, John had dialled triple nine
Said 'Help me I'm stuck at the scene of a crime
A gas station robbery a mile down the line
Come quickly I'm trapped in the gents'
So we heard the police radio burst into life
He took the call, slammed the door and sped into the night
We worked the wheel free and clamped it on tight
Through the first open gate those sheep went
There's no transportation down under
No gallows in the old County jail
At best in the morning, we're fined with a warning
At worst in the evening, we're back out on bail
So come you West Country villains when you set out to steal
Keep your phones charged, always check your spare wheel
And if you get caught, use your wits not your heels
Think of my uncle and me
'Cos somewhere some copper he's just hopping mad
Some farmer is counting more sheep than he had
And we're in the pub with our pints, really glad
We weren't born in 1803
There's no transportation down under
No gallows in the old County jail
At best in the morning, we're fined with a warning
At worst in the evening, we're back out on bail
But it's other men's cattle I'll water and feed
One day I will pay for this life that I lead
I'm a thief from the edge of the moor
My uncle and me got it down to an art
We set out for stealing not long after dark
For the fields and the farms where it's easy to park
And the way back to home is secure
One cold winter's night after Tavistock Fair
Stolen sheep in our trailer and rain in the air
I felt the flat tyre and I reached for the spare
By the side of the A38
But the bolts on the wheel must have rusted in place
I'm under the Landy with spray in my face
And less than an hour to get out of that place
Cursing our bad luck and fate
There's no transportation down under
No gallows in the old County jail
At best in the morning, we're fined with a warning
At worst in the evening, we're back out on bail
And then I saw in the distance this flashing blue light
Two feet and a loud voice came out of the night
Asking if everything here was alright
And would we be soon on our way?
So John said he'd better get help on the phone
And in the distance I'm hearing his soft urgent tones
But this officer he wouldn't leave it alone
His torch on my back number plate
Instead of the AA, John had dialled triple nine
Said 'Help me I'm stuck at the scene of a crime
A gas station robbery a mile down the line
Come quickly I'm trapped in the gents'
So we heard the police radio burst into life
He took the call, slammed the door and sped into the night
We worked the wheel free and clamped it on tight
Through the first open gate those sheep went
There's no transportation down under
No gallows in the old County jail
At best in the morning, we're fined with a warning
At worst in the evening, we're back out on bail
So come you West Country villains when you set out to steal
Keep your phones charged, always check your spare wheel
And if you get caught, use your wits not your heels
Think of my uncle and me
'Cos somewhere some copper he's just hopping mad
Some farmer is counting more sheep than he had
And we're in the pub with our pints, really glad
We weren't born in 1803
There's no transportation down under
No gallows in the old County jail
At best in the morning, we're fined with a warning
At worst in the evening, we're back out on bail