Lyrics:

On remote Northern Fells by moorlands of peat
Kilns beside burns around Klennel Street
Malting the barley with water for days
And turning with shovels to dry out the grain

They were travelling as dealers of fine earthern ware
Dance with the ladies at Stankshawbank Fair
Led by wor Rory a fine man to hand
Smuggling whisky to Northumberland

On the banks of the burn you'll find Rory's gear
The small strip of green between heather and fern
Where Rory made whisky in a room on the hill
Between Standup and Hedgup an illicit distill

They were travelling as dealers...

By distilling the whisky no duty was paid
Imported from Scotland there's a profit to be made
Sell to the taverns the spirit of the still
To serve to the public at half penny a gill

They were travelling as dealers...

Well they drive a small cart under cover of the night
And arrive at the inn in the still morning light
To meet with the merchants their wares for to trade
Before the excise in Morpeth got word of their raid

They were travelling as dealers...

Then one night in a fight two smugglers were caught
They were taken to prison a lesson to be taught
In August a trial condemned them to die
With a noose round their necks from the gallows swung high

They were travelling as dealers...