When I was young and short of tongue A silly wee fool was I The morning after I left the school I heard my mother sigh Get up, get out, you lazy lout Get into your working clothes Up to your knees in oil and grease With the grindstone to your nose I bought a clock, a bonny wee clock To help me tell the time It waken me every morning With a very poetic rhythm Get up, get out, you lazy lout Get into your working clothes Up to your knees in oil and grease With the grindstone to your nose I married a lass, a bonny wee lass And kept her many a-year. Come what may, she began every day By whispering in my ear Get up, get out, you lazy lout Get into your working clothes Up to your knees in oil and grease With the grindstone to your nose Some can lie as long as they like They're luckier man than me I never get to lie very long I'm only 5 foot 3 Get up, get out, you lazy lout Get into your working clothes Up to your knees in oil and grease With the grindstone to your nose I'll look for work tomorrow If you just let me sleep todayTeksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
