Let drunkards sing in praise of wine,
Their midnight balls and social glee;
But Scotia's sons may fidge fu' fain,
While they hae rowth o' barley bree.
French brandy is but trash, shame fa't!
Their foreign rum I downa prie;
Gie me the sterling pith o' maut,
Aboon them a' it bears the gree.
The workman wha has toil'd all day,
Sits down at night frae labour free;
See care is fled—his smile how gay,
When owre a pint o' barley bree.
French brandy &c.
Gif onie ane in barlock-hood,
Should wi' his neibour disagree;
Let them baith gang in jovial mood,
And settled owre the barley bree.
French brandy &c.
For barley drink wad they but think,
Is cheaper than a lawyer's fee;
Though sairly vext ay mind the text,
'It's best to tak a pint and gree.'
French brandy &c.
I've seen a child could hardly speak,
When not a drap was in his ee;
But he could lecture for a week,
Just gie him ay the whisky, free.
French brandy &c.
Whan I've a baubee in my pouch,
I aften birl it frank and free:
Then care can never mak me crouch;
The life of man is barley bree.
French brandy &c.