| In Forfar County I was born
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| But faith I div think shame, sir
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| Tae tell o' the weary life I led
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| Afore I left my hame, sir
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| Hurra, hurra, wi my tilt a fal air al aye doh
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| My faither was a weaver poor
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| As ever filled a spool, sir
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| And never was meat cam tae wir door
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| But jist a pun' at Yule, sir
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| Hurra, hurra, wi my tilt a fal air al aye doh
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| When I was six I gaed tae school
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| Because it was the fashion
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| And every Sunday tae the kirk
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| Tae save me o' a thrashin'
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| Hurra, hurra, wi my tilt a fal air al aye doh
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| They learnt me there tae read and write
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| And learnt the rule o' three, sir
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| But a nobler thought cam tae my mind
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| A sodger I would be, sir
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| Hurra, hurra, wi my tilt a fal air al aye doh
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| So I gaed doon tae Forfar toon
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| All in the Forfar County
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| And I signed up wi' Sergeant Brown
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| For forty pounds o' bounty
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| Hurra, hurra, wi my tilt a fal air al aye doh
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| They gaed me clothes tae hap ma back
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| And mittens for my hands, sir
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| Swore I was the bravest chiel
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| In a' the Hielan clan, sir
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| Hurra, hurra, wi my tilt a fal air al aye doh
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| We spent the maist o' a' our time
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| Just marchin' up and doon, sir
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| Wi' a feather bonnet tae wir cap
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| And poorthered tae wir croon, sir
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| Hurra, hurra, wi my tilt a fal air al aye doh
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| But fegs they gart me change my tune
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| And sent me off tae Spain, sir
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| Where forty regiments in a row
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| Came marchin' o’er the plain, sir
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| Hurra, hurra, wi my tilt a fal air al aye doh
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| For three long days and nichts we fought
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| I thought 'twould never end, sir
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| 'Til a bullet came fustlin' through my leg
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| And I up and fired again, sir
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| Hurra, hurra, wi my tilt a fal air al aye doh
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| The surgeon came and dressed my wounds
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| They said I would be lame, sir
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| But I got hud o' some oxter staffs
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| And I came hirplin' hame, sir
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| Hurra, hurra, wi my tilt a fal air al aye doh
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| Noo a' the things that I’ve been through
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| I’ve scarcely time tae mention
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| For noo I’m back in Forfar shire
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| And living frae my pension
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| Hurra, hurra, wi my tilt a fal air al aye doh |