Like a silly buzzard follow,
Doncin raand a bit o' leet.

But ther's few like Robin redbreast,
Cling throo days o' gloom an' care;
Soa aw love mi old tried friends best--
Fickle hearts aw'll freely spare.


Plenty o' Brass

A'a! it's grand to ha' plenty o' brass!
It's grand to be able to spend
A trifle sometimes on a glass
For yorsen, or sometimes for a friend
To be able to bury yor neive
Up to th' shackle i' silver an' gowd
An', 'baght pinchin', be able to save
A wee bit for th' time when yor owd.

A'a! it's grand to ha', plenty o' brass!
To be able to set daan yor fooit
Withaght ivver thinkin'--bith' mass!
'At yor wearin' soa mitch off yor booit;
To be able to walk along th' street,
An' stand at shop windows to stare,
An' net ha' to beat a retreat
If yo' scent a "bum bailey" i' th' air.

A'a I it's grand to ha' plenty o' brass!