~ THE MADNESS OF KING GEORGE ~
~∞ THE GERMAN LAIRDIE ∞~
FIRST PRINTED IN THE "MONTROSE REVIEW"
TUNE : "Neil Gow’s Fareweel to Whisky."
O GEORDIE Geulp is on the Sea,
The cliffs of Dover on his lee;
For shame! that Britian’s King should be
A wee bit German lairdie O.
An’ is it come to this, ohon!
That royal James maun flee his throne,
For sic a maughtless weary drone
As a puir bit German lairdie O.
Auld Neptune, this is what I crave -
Oh may he meet a wat’ry grave,
An’ soundly sleep beneath the wave -
A droukit German lairdie O.
We swear that ne’er a foreign loun
Shall ever wear the British crown;
By Heaven! we’ll put the sharger down -
The wee, wee German lairdie O.
Waesucks that sic a feckless thing
Should ever mint at being a king!
But Scotia soon will cow his wing,
An’ pu’ his German beardie O.
An’ Scotland’s sons will send him over
To his hungry hame, Hanover;
Again he’ll never be a rover,
But delve in his kail-yardie O.
An’ he’ll sup kail and guid kail-brose,
He’ll clite his shoon an’ darn his hose,
An’ lead a life of sweet repose -
The cantie German lairdie O.
Till death, wi’ his wanchauncie dart,
Shall spit him through the hollow heart;
Wi’ life itsel’ he syne maun part,
To rot in some kirk-yardie O.