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Come a
ye tramps and hawker lads, ye gaitherers o blaw,
ye tramp the country roon and roon, come listen ane
and a
Ill tell tae ye a rovin tale o sichts that I hae
seen
far up intae the snawy North and roon by Gretna Green
Ive seen
the high Ben Nevis a towerin tae the moon
Ive been by Crieff and Callendar and roon by bonny Doune
Ive seen the Nethys silvery tide and places ill tae
ken
and its up intae the snawy North lies Urquarts bonny
glen
Aft times Ive
lauched intae mysel while trudgin doon the road
wi a bag o blaw upon my back, my face as broons
a toad
wi lumps o cake and tatty scones, and cheese and braxy
ham
nae thinkin whaur Im comin frae, less whaur Im
goin tae gyang
Im happy
in the summertime beneath the bricht blue sky
nae thinkin in the mornin at nicht whaur Im tae
lie
in bothy or barn or onywhaur or oot amang the hay
and if the weether does permit, Im happy a the day
Oh I think Ill
gang tae Paddies land, Im makin up my mind,
for Scotlands greatly altered noo, I canna raise the wind,
oh I will trust in providence, and if providence proves true,
then I will sing o Erins isle, when I come back tae
you
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