Aye an' a bit of mackerel, settler rack and down
Ran it down by the home, and I flew
Well, it slapped me and I flopped it down in the shade
And I cried, cried, cried
The tear had fallen down he had taken, never back to raise
And then cried Mary, and took out wi' your Claymore
Right outta a' pocket, I ran down, down by the mountain side
Battlin' the fiery horde that was falling around the feet
"Never!, " he cried, "Never shall ye get me alive
Ye rotten hound of the burnie crew!"
Well I snatched fer the blade and a Claymore cut and thrust
And I fell down before him round his feet
Aye, a roar he cried fray the bottom of 'is heart
That I would nay fall but as dead
Dead as I can by why' feet, d'ya ken?
And the wind cried back