There stands three trumpeters on yon hill
|
Blaw, blaw, blaw winds, blaw
|
Blaw their trumpets sae loud and shrill
|
And the wind blaws aye my plaid awa'
|
Gin I’d his trumpet in my kist
|
Blaw, blaw, blaw winds, blaw
|
And were in the lad’s arms that I like best
|
And the wind blaws aye my plaid awa'
|
Gin ye would be wed wi' me
|
Blaw, blaw, blaw winds, blaw
|
There’s ae thing ye maun dae for me
|
And the wind blaws aye my plaid awa'
|
I maun hae a fine linen sark
|
Blaw, blaw, blaw winds, blaw
|
Without a stitch o' needlewark
|
And the wind blaws aye my plaid awa'
|
Ye maun wash it in yon draw-well
|
Blaw, blaw, blaw winds, blaw
|
Where water never sprang nor fell
|
And the wind blaws aye my plaid awa'
|
Ye maun drt’t on yon hawthorn
|
Blaw, blaw, blaw winds, blaw
|
That hasna seen blossom since man was born
|
And the wind blaws aye my plaid awa'
|
Gin I mak’a sark for thee
|
Blaw, blaw, blaw winds, blaw
|
There’s ae thing ye maun tae me dae
|
And the wind blaws aye my plaid awa'
|
My faither has an acre o' land
|
Blaw, blaw, blaw winds, blaw
|
Ye maun ploo it wi' your ae hand
|
And the wind blaws aye my plaid awa'
|
Ye maun sow it wantin' corn
|
Blaw, blaw, blaw winds, blaw
|
And roll it wi' a sheep’s shank-bone
|
And the wind blaws aye my plaid awa'
|
Ye maun shear it wi' a scythe o' leather
|
Blaw, blaw, blaw winds, blaw
|
And bind it wi' a peacock’s feather
|
And the wind blaws aye my plaid awa'
|
Ye maun stook it in the sea
|
Blaw, blaw, blaw winds, blaw
|
And bring the whaetsheaf dry tae me
|
And the wind blaws aye my plaid awa'
|
And gin you wark noo all this wark
|
Blaw, blaw, blaw winds, blaw
|
Come to me and you’ll get your sark
|
And the wind blaws aye my plaid awa' |