For to mak rich.
I ne’er laid money up in store,
Into a hole behind the door,
A shilling, penny, less or more,
I aye did scatter,
’Tis just, now, I should drink, therefore,
Sma’ beer or water.
I never sooner siller got,
But a’ my pouches it would plot,
And scorch them fair, it was sae hot;