news, lassies, news
there's news, lassies, news,
gude news i've to tell!
there's a boatfu' o' lads
come to our town to sell.
chorus—the wean wants a cradle,
and the cradle wants a cod:
i'll no gang to my bed,
until i get a nod.
father, quo' she, mither, quo she,
do what you can,
i'll no gang to my bed,
until i get a man.
the wean, c.
i hae as gude a craft rig
as made o'yird and stane;
and waly fa' the ley-crap,
for i maun till'd again.
the wean, c.