It's argy-bargy-awfu' wark!
An' whiles we come to blows
Till a man's ill-natur' lappers his sark
As it sypes awa' frae his nose.
The rizzon o't's no' far to seek,
I'll tell ye plump an' plain,
We ken oor neebours' business best-
The Deil may hae oor ain!
The wricht's a billy for settin' banes,
The meenister deals in pills,
The doctor thinks his gift's to preach
An' the pollisman mak's oor wills!
There's whiles I think we're waur than maist,
There's whiles I dinna ken,
A raw o' neeps is no' a' like
An' why look for't in men?
Sae gin ye get your birse set up
By some dour cankert carle,
Content yersel'! For min' it tak's
A' kin's to mak' a warl'!
DROGGIE.
Yersel' is't? Imphm! Man that's bad!
A kin' o' thinness o' the blude?
Gaed aff las' nicht intil a dwam?
Keep's a'! But that's rale nesty, Tam!
An' lossin' taste noo for the dram?
(An' may it dae ye muckle gude!)
Noo! See the libel! "Thrice a day
A tablespunefu' efter food."
Drogues is nae better than they're ca'ed?
Some drumlie-like? Losh! ye're a lad!
The taste'll be byordnar' bad?
(An' may it dae ye muckle gude!)
Weel, here's your mixtur'-auchteen pence,
I'd mak' it cheaper gin I could.
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