But he’s got his license and don’t have to hide!
And we’ve bought him a byootiful collar beside.
[SKYE OF SKYE]
Skye, of Skye, when the night was late,
And the burly porter drowsy grew,
Ran down to the silent pier, to wait
Till the boat came in with its hardy crew.
Skye, of Skye, as he sat on the pier,