Brose and Butter

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

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Jenny sits up i' the laft,
Jockie wad fain a been at her;
But there cam a wind out o' the west
Made a' the winnocks to clatter.

O Gie my love brose, lasses;
O gie my love brose and butter;
For nane in Carrick wi' him
Can gie a cunt its supper.

The laverock lo'es the grass,
The paetrick lo'es the stibble:
And hey, for the gardiner lad,
To gully awa wi' his dibble!

My daddie sent me to the hill
To pu' my Minnie some heather;
An' drive it in your fill,
Ye're welcome to the leather.

The Mouse is a merry wee beast,
The Moudiewart wants the een;
And O' for a touch o' the thing
I had in my nieve yestreen.

We a' were fou yestreen,
The night shall be its brither;
And hey, for a roaring pin
To nail twa wames thegither!

O Gie my love brose, lasses;
O gie my love brose and butter;
For nane in Carrick wi' him
Can gie a cunt its supper.