John Anderson My Jo

John Anderson my jo, John, I wonder what you mean,
To rise sae early in the morn, and sit sae late at e’en;
Yell blear out a’ your e’en John, and why shou’d ye do so?
Gang sooner to your bed at e’en, John Anderson, my jo.

John Anderson my jo, John, ye were my first conceit,
Ye need na think it strange, John, tho’ I lo’e you ear’ and late;
They sae yere turnin auld, John, I scarce believe it’s so,
For I think ye’re ay the same to me, John Anderson my jo.

John Anderson my jo, John, when we were first acquaint,
Your locks were like the raven, John, your bonny brow was brent;
But now ye’ve turned bald, John, your locks are like the snow,
My blessings on your frosty pow, John Anderson my jo.

John Anderson my jo, John, we’ve 'een our bairn’s bairns;
And yet, my dear John Anderson, I’m happy in your arms;
And sae are ye in mine John, I’m sure ye’ll ne’er sae no,
Tho’ the days are past that we have seen, John Anderson my jo.

John Anderson my jo, John, frae year to year we’ve past;
And soon that year may come, John, that will bring us to our last;
But let not that affright us, John, our hearts were ne’er our foe,
While in innocent delight we’ve liv’d, John Anderson ray jo.

John Andersen my jo, John, we've climb’d the hill thegither,
And mony a canty day, John, we’ve had wi’ ane anither;
Now we maun totter down, John, and hand in hand we’ll go,
And we’ll sleep thegither at the fit, John Anderson my jo.