Lads o' the Fair - Battlefield Band

Come, bonnie lass, and lie near me

And let the brandy cheer ye

For the road frae Fife to Falkirk’s lang

And cold and wet an' dreary

My trade, it is the weaving

At the bonnie toon o' Leven;

An' we’ll drink to the health o' the fairmer’s dames

Who’ll buy oor claith the morn

For ye can see them a', the lads o' the fair

Lads frae the Forth an' the Carron Water,.

Workin' lads an' lads wi' gear

Lads that’ll sell ye the provost’s dochter

Sogers back frae the German Wars,.

Peddlers up frae the Border;

An' lassies wi' an eye for mair than the kye

At the tryst an' fair o' Falkirk

Come, Geordie, lead the pony for the path is steep an' stony

An' we’re three lang weeks frae the Isle o' Skye

An' the beasts are thin an' bony

We’ll tak the last o' the siller

An' we’ll buy oorsels a gill or two;

An' we’ll drink tae lads who’ll buy oor kye

In Falkirk in the morn

Stan here an' I’ll show ye, there’s the toon below ye,.

But ye’d best bide here in the barn the nicht

For the nichtwatch dinna know ye

Ma brither, he’s a plooman an' I’m for the feein' noo, man;

Sae we’ll drink tae the price o' the harvest corn

In Falkirk in the morn

O, the wark o' the weaver’s over, likewise the days o' the drover

An' a plowboy sits on a tractor noo;

(too high tae see the clover,)

The workin’s no so steady, but the lads are past the ready

For tae drink a health tae the workin' man in Falkirk in the morn