Battlefield Band Lads O' The Fair
Come, bonnie lass, and lie near me
And let the brandy cheer ye
For the road frae Fife to Falkirk's lang
And cold and wet an' dreary
My trade, it is the weaving
At the bonnie toon o' Leven;
An' we'll drink to the health o' the fairmer's dames
Who'll buy oor claith the morn
For ye can see them a', the lads o' the fair
Lads frae the Forth an' the Carron Water,.
Workin' lads an' lads wi' gear
Lads that'll sell ye the provost's dochter
Sogers back frae the German Wars,.
Peddlers up frae the Border;
An' lassies wi' an eye for mair than the kye
At the tryst an' fair o' Falkirk
Come, Geordie, lead the pony for the path is steep an' stony
An' we're three lang weeks frae the Isle o' Skye
An' the beasts are thin an' bony
We'll tak the last o' the siller
An' we'll buy oorsels a gill or two;
An' we'll drink tae lads who'll buy oor kye
In Falkirk in the morn
Stan here an' I'll show ye, there's the toon below ye,.
But ye'd best bide here in the barn the nicht
For the nichtwatch dinna know ye
Ma brither, he's a plooman an' I'm for the feein' noo, man;
Sae we'll drink tae the price o' the harvest corn
In Falkirk in the morn
O, the wark o' the weaver's over, likewise the days o' the drover
An' a plowboy sits on a tractor noo; (too high tae see the clover,)
The workin's no so steady, but the lads are past the ready
For tae drink a health tae the workin' man in Falkirk in the morn
