Oh, years ago I used to be the smartest chap as you would see
The Prince of Wales he wanted me to go and join the army
Now I'm turning old and frail, like a dog without a tail
And it's all through Jane McPhail the lass o' Killiecrankie.
Fal-the duddle-al-the duddledy
She's as sweet as honey-dew
The lass o' Killiecrankie.
Oh, one day I was 'cutting it fat', and as she passed I raised my hat
And as her little nose was flat, I handed her my 'hankey'
'Jane,' said I 'You're looking smart, could you masticate a tart?'
She smiled a smole near broke my heart - the lass o' Killiecrankie
Oh, may be I was acting rash, when I tried her waist to squash
She said, 'Although you're on the mash, stop your hankey-pankey.'
She said that married we would be, then she heaved a sigh, you see
Then she heaved a brick at me, on the hills o' Killiecrankie.
Oh, I was kilted to the knee, 'Jock, my dear,' she said to me
'We'll sit down two hours or three,' said I, 'My darling, thank ye.'
But very soon I changed my tune, for on a thistle I sat doon
And I nearly jumped up to the moon on the hills o' Killiecrankie.
|Written and performed by Harry Lauder (1870-1950)|