Sit doon by me, my canty freend, Sit doon, an' snuff the licht! A boll o' bear 's in ilka glass Ye'se drink wi' me the nicht! Chorus Let preachers prate o' soberness An' brand us ripe for doom, Yet still we'll lo'e the brimmin' glass, And still we'll hate the toom. There's fire an' life in ilka glass, There's blythesomness an' cheer, There's thirst an' what'll slocken it, There's love and laughter here. O mirk an' black the lee lang gate That we maun gang the nicht, But aye we'll pass the brimmin' glass An' aye we'll snuff the licht. We'll draw the closer roond the fire And aye the closer get. Without, the ways may thaw or freeze, Within we're roarin' wet! |