Ye husbandmen of Scotland,
Who till our native soil,
How vain your high-class farming!
How profitless your toil!
Your fields of grain are humbug,
Your flocks and herds are “bam”—
Go cultivate the strawberry,
And make it into jam!
* * * * *
Ye husbandmen of Scotland,
Who till our native soil,
How vain your high-class farming!
How profitless your toil!
Your fields of grain are humbug,
Your flocks and herds are “bam”—
Go cultivate the strawberry,
And make it into jam!
* * * * *