In Forfar I was born and bred Bit faith I div think shame, sir When I tell the weary life I led Afore I left my hame, sir
Chorus: Hurrah, hurrah, wi' ma twittie fal air al aye doh
An' ma faither wis a weaver poor Wha ever filled a spool, sir Aye, an' never wis beef cam' tae the door Bit just a pun' at Yule, sir.
An' when I wis sax I gaed tae skweel Because it wis the fashion Aye, an' ilka Sunday tae the Kirk Ta save me o' a thrashing'.
They learned me tae read an' write Likewise the rule o' three, sir Till a nobler thought cam' intae ma heid An' a sodger I wud be, sir.
So I gaed doin tae Forfar toon ‘Twas in the Forfar county. An' I listed there wi' Sargeant Broon For forty pounds o' bounty.
An' we spent the maist o' a' oor time Jist marching' up an' doon, sir Wi' a feathered bonnet on ma heid An' poothered tae the croon, sir.
Bit next they gardt me change ma tune An' sent me off tae Spain, sir Where forty regiments in a row Cam' marchin' ower the plains, sir.
An' for three lang days and nights we focht I thought t'wid niver end, sir Till a bullet cam whistling thro' ma leg So I up an' fired again, sir.
The bleed cam pourin' doon ma hose The bleed cam pourin' doon, sir So I toomed my gun among my foes, And I syne sat doon and sang, sir,
An' the dochtor cam' an' dressed ma wounds An' swore I wid be lame, sir But I got ahaud o' twa oxter staffs So I cam' hirplin' hame, sir.
Oh, a' the troubles I've been through I scarcely need tae mention For noo I'm back in Forfarshire An' I'm livin' off ma pension.Teksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
