news, lassies, news

    there's news, lassies, news,

    gude news i've to tell!

    there's a boatfu' o' lads

    come to our town to sell.

    chorus—the wean wants a cradle,

    and the cradle wants a cod:

    i'll no gang to my bed,

    until i get a nod.

    father, quo' she, mither, quo she,

    do what you can,

    i'll no gang to my bed,

    until i get a man.

    the wean, c.

    i hae as gude a craft rig

    as made o'yird and stane;

    and waly fa' the ley-crap,

    for i maun till'd again.

    the wean, c.