You see yon lean and lanky lad,
Who flings his pulpit ban here,
Save the elect of his own sect,
On all the human clan here,
For a’ that, and a’ that,
Though priests may curse and ban here,
The God who sits in heaven shall laugh
At vain conceit of man here.
You see yon chiel who wags his tongue
And bobs his wig and a’ that.