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Our brave lads there did suffer sair
For want o’ meat and claise, man.
Next owre to France they had to dance,
King Louis for to save, man,
Our mony a man back never cam,
But in it fand his grave, man;
An’ bonnets blue, at Waterloo,
They suffer’d warst ava, man,
The filthy loons of French dragoons
Did near hand kill them a’, man.
She form'd her there in hollow square,
Her nainsel to defend, man,
And there she stood ’mang brither’s blood,
Until her life did end, man.
Up cam the Greys wi’ trotting pace,
Ahint the Frenchmen’s back, man,
Wi’ bluid an’ woun’s they knapt their crowns,
An’ kill’d them in a crack, man,
Our bare-hought boys then cheer’d for joy,
While on their knees they hurkl’d,
An’ loud did praise the Scottish Greys
Wha’ had their enemies conquer’d;
For, warna them, they’d a’ been slain,
As sure’s they were alive, man;
For ilka man was o’ the clan,
The French dogs they had five, man.
Wi’ Highland rage they did engage,
An’ fast the Frenchmen wounded,
