Aye and a bit of mackerel, settler rack and down
Ran it down by the home and I flew
Well, I slapped me and I flopped it down in the shade
And I cried, cried, cried
The fear a fallen down had taken, never back the raise
And then cried Mary and took out wi' your Claymore
Right outta a' pocket, I ran down, down the mountainside
Back on Battlin the fiery horde that was falling around the feet
‽Neverâ€Â, he cried, ‽Never shall ye get me alive
Ye rotten hound of the burnie crewâ€Â
Well, I snatched fer the blade and a Claymore cut and thrust
And I fell down before him 'round his feet, aye
A roar, he cried
From the bottom of his heart
That I would nay fall but as dead
Dead as I can by a' feet, d'ya ken?
And the wind cried Mary
