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John Gray was a gardener |
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Who, with his wife and bairn |
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Arrived in Edinburgh |
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The century was nearly turned |
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The year was 1800 |
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That year was harsh and cold |
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He could nae find nae work |
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Their future so unsure |
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To avoid the workhouse |
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And for his family |
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He joined the police force |
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A constable was he |
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A condition of his service |
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He had to take a dog |
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To watch by his side |
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He chose a terrier frae sky |
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This is the balla of Greyfriars Bobby |
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The dog with whom his master |
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He would stay |
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No pain of fear |
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For 14 long years |
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He stood by his master's grave |
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(And he's still standing there today) |
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Succumbing to his fate |
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In 1858 |
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Johnny Gray passed away |
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Laid down in Greyfriars Churchyards |
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No marker on his grave |
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His faithful terrier stayed there |
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He would not go away |
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The groundskeeper was told |
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The dog must be a lout |
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The Greyfriars parish told him |
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To keep that rascal out |
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But Bobby so devoted to his master after death |
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The people fed and sheltered him |
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And idoled him instead |
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Now Bobby and his |
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Master stand together |
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Though they're dead |
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Their bonds, as they say |
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Reaches far beyond the grave |
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So now you know the story |
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If anybody asks you |
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You tell em of the Statue |
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That's in Edinburgh today |
