Bring me a
ling fae the Viking Bank,
A tusk fae the
Patch or the Reef,
Or catch me a
cod on the Buchan coast
An' I'll greet
nae mair for beef.
Steep her in
saut for a three-fower days
Then dry her
slow in the sun
In the month
o' Mey, when the safter win's
Bring the
green growth up thro' the grun'.
Bring me a
bile o' the finest Pinks
Fae a craft on
Mormon's Braes,
At the tail o'
the hairst, when the first fite frost
Tells a tale
o' winter days.
Peel them an'
bile in a fine big pot
Wi' my bonny
fish in anither;
Bree them
baith when ye think they're richt,
Then ye'll
chap them baith the gither.
A knottie o'
butter an' a glaiss o' milk -
Ye've a feast
that's weel worth a Grace;
Then waste nae
a meenit as ye fill your speen
An' stap it
into your face.
Bring me a
tusk fae the Patch or the Reef -
Fae the Viking
Bank, a ling;
Or catch me a
cod on the Buchan coast
Then I ken
I'll dine like a king.
