The Trogger

Ⓖ THIS IS PUBLISHED IN ITS ORIGINAL FORM AND CONTAINS VERY STRONG LANGUAGE

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As I cam down by Annan side,
Intending for the border,
Amang the Scroggie banks and braes,
Wha met I but a trogger.
He laid me down upon my back,
I thought he was but jokin',
Till he was in me to the hilts,
O the deevil tak sic troggin!

What could I say, what could I do,
I bann'd and sair misca'd him,
But whiltie-whaltie gae'd his arse
The mair that I forbade him:
He stell'd his foot against a stane,
And doubl'd ilka stroke in,
Till I gaed daft amang his hands,
O the deevil tak sic troggin!

Then up we raise, and took the road,
And in by Ecclefechan,
Where the brandy-stoup we gart it clink,
And the strang-beer ream the quech in.

Bedown the bents o' Bonshaw braes,
We took the partin' yokin';
But I've claw'd a sairy cunt synsine,
O the deevil tak sic troggin!