Hur can peshaw a petter hough
Tan him wha wears the crown, mattam;
Her sell hae pistol and claymore,
Tae flie ti’ lallant loon, mattam.
Had awa’, had awa’,
Had awa’ frae me, Donald,
For a your houghs and warlike arms,
You’re not a match for me, Donald.
Hur sell hae a short coat pi pote,
No trail my feets at rin, mattam,