O an ye were dead Gudeman———-

Chorus
O AN ye were dead gudeman,
A green turf on your head, gudeman,
I wad bestow my widowhood
Upon a rantin Highlandman.--

There 's sax eggs in the pan, gudeman,
There 's sax eggs in the pan, gudeman,
There 's ane to you, and twa to me,
And three to our John Highlandman.--------
O an ye &C.

A sheep-head 's in the pot, gudeman,
A sheep-head 's in the pot, gudeman;
The flesh to him the broo to me,
An the horns become your brow, gudeman.--------

Chorus to the last verse
Sing round about the fire wi' a rung she ran,
An rownd about the fire wi' a rung she ran:
Your horns shall tie you to the staw,
And I shall bang your hide, gudeman.--------