|1: Come aa ye lads that follow the ploo,
A story true I'll tell tae you,
O some o the ongyangs we gyang through,
At Sleepytoon in the mornin.
2: At five oor foreman jumps like a shot,
And cries, "Lord sakes, what a sleepy heided lot;
Are ye aa gaun tae lie there till ye rot,
At Sleepytoon in the mornin?"
3: Syne at half past five we follow wir nose,
Ower tae the kitchen tae chaw wir brose;
Fairm servants seldom need a dose,
O castor ile in the mornin.
4: Oor foreman lays his brose cup by,
Syne ben the hoose he gaes a cry;
He's hardly time his pints tae tie,
Till he's oot til his horse in the mornin.
5: Oor bailie's sober, thin an sma,
Sideweys he's hardly seen ava;
But he'll pu neeps wi ony twa,
That ever raise in the mornin.
6: I ken but Birkie is oor loon,
His waltams cost him hauf a croun;
His briks are that ticht, he's fly tae set doun,
For tearin his briks in the mornin.
|7: We hae a great muckle kitchie-deem,
I'll swear she's gey near auchteen steen;
The auld cat kittled in ane o her sheen,
Afore she got up ae mornin.
8: The fairmer's name is Geordie Broon,
He's weel respeckit roun and roun;
But I canna say the same for Mrs Broon,
Wi her scowlin face in the mornin.
9: She's a hungry hun, the fairmer's wife,
Ae ee says Forfar, the ither says Fife;
She's a face like a decanter and a nose like a knife,
That wad hash Swedish neeps in the mornin.
10: But oor misses she is nae sae bad,
It's jist aboot time she had a lad;
I've been thinkin masel o spierin her dad,
For his dother some fine mornin.
11: I've been writing this stroud on the corn kist,
I'm the orra loon an I'll seen be missed;
An if I dinna want a wallop fae the foreman's fist,
It's 'ta ta' til some ither mornin.
waltams - nicky tams