We're gaily yet, and we're gaily yet,
And we're no yery fou but we're gaily yet,
Then sit ye awhile and tipple a bit,
For we're no very fou but we're gaily yet.
There was a lad, and they ca'd him Dick,
He gae me a kiss, and I bit his lip,
And down in the garden he shew'd me a trick
And we're no very fou, but we're gaily yet.
And we're gaily yet, &c.
There were three lads, and they were clad,
There were three lasses, and them they had,
Three trees in the orchard are newly sprung,
And we's a get geer enough, we're but young.
And we're gaily yet, &c.
Then up wi't Ailey, Ailey,
Up wi't Aily now,
Then up wi't Ailey, quo' kimmer,
We's a get roaring fou.
One was kiss'd in the barn,
Another was kiss'd on the green,
And the t'other behind the pease-stack,
Till the mow flew up in her e'en.
Then up wi't Ailey, &c.
Now fye John Thomson, rin,
Gin ever ye ran in your life,
De'il get ye, but hye, my dear Jock,
There's a man got to bed with your wife.
Then up wi't Ailey &c.
Then away John Thomson ran,
And I true he ran with speed,
But, before he had run his length,
The false loon had done the deed.
Then up wi't Ailey, &c.
We're gaily yet, and we're gaily yet,
And we're no very fou but we're gaily yet
Then sit ye a-while and tipple a bit,
For we're no very fu' but we're gaily yet.