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Oh, I'll sing you a stave if you'll gies your attention |
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It's no song of pity, it's no tale of woe |
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And no word of honour or love will I mention |
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But I'll sing of a lassie I kept long ago |
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No better than most, and no worse as many, |
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And what drew me to her's no easy to say. |
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She was course, she was heartless and she was not that bonnie, |
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But she was the star o' the bar in her day |
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I've stravaiged the Royal Mile with her, drinking in style with her, |
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And Rose Street from end to end often surveyed. |
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Fought and swore in the pubs with her, |
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Rolled in the clubs with her, cadged manys a sub from her never repaid |
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No better than most, and no worse as many, |
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And what drew me to her's no easy to say. |
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She was course, she was heartless and she was not that bonnie, |
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But she was the star o' the bar in her day |
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All you chaps with young lassies believe me love soon passes, |
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And all your bright dreams are but straws in the wind. |
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Better one who'll sit down with you, sing a fine tune with you, |
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Pass the glass round with you, drink herself blind |
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No better than most, and no worse as many, |
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And what drew me to her's no easy to say. |
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She was course, she was heartless and she was not that bonnie, |
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But she was the star o' the bar in her day |
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No better than most, and no worse as many, |
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And what drew me to her's no easy to say. |
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She was course, she was heartless and she was not that bonnie, |
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But she was the star o' the bar in her day |
