The Zeederberg

My name is Peter Cobbley, from Somerset I come,
I rode up with a column in eighteen ninety one
I've blazed along with Burnham, I've ridden with Selous,
I've shaken hands with Cecil Rhodes and Doctor Jameson too.
La da da da, la da da da, Oh for the Zeederberg
To roll on in and bring me a little breath of England.
La da da da, la da da da, Oh for the Zeederberg
To roll on in and bring me a little breath of England.
I left my heart in England when I set off to roam,
And fourteen golden guineas I've saved and sent back home.
I have some land I'm planting in green Mashonaland,
I've wrote a proper letter home and asked for Rosie's hand.
La da da da, la da da da, Oh for the Zeederberg
To roll on in and bring me a little breath of England.
La da da da, la da da da, Oh for the Zeederberg
To roll on in and bring me a little breath of England.
No nightingale and sing here, no cuckoo in the dell,
No glory of the spring here, no golden daffodil.
But we will have the night-jar and lilies of the flame
And all the sounds of Africa that sing me Rosies's name.
La da da da, la da da da, Oh for the Zeederberg
To roll on in and bring me a little breath of England.
La da da da, la da da da, Oh for the Zeederberg
To roll on in and bring me a little breath of England.
La da da da, la da da da, Oh for the Zeederberg
To roll on in and bring me a little breath of England.