The Queer Folk I' the Shaws

I thocht unto mysel ae day, I'd like to see a race,
For mony ither lads like me had been at sic a place.
Sae up I got an' wash'd mysel, put on my Sunday braws,
An wi' a stick into my han' I danderd to the Shaws,

cho: Singin' tol de rol de riddle lol, tol de rol de ri-do
Tol de rol de riddle lol, tol de rol de ri-do

My mother richtly counsel'd me before that I gid out
To tak guid care an my e'e wi what I wis aboot
Said she, " Ye may be trod to death beneath the horses' paws
An mind my lad the sain's true: 'There's queer folk i' the Shaws.'"

The races pleased me unco weel gosh they were gran to sce
The horses ran sae afu I thocht they maist did flee man
When they came near the winnin post O siccan loud huzzas
Ye wid hae thocht they'd a gaen wud the queer folk i the Shaws.

A bonnie lass cam up to me an ask't me for a gill
Quoth I, "If that's the fashion here I mauna tak it ill."
She will'd me our intill a tent an half a mutchin ca's
Thinks I, " My lass I see it's true there's queer folk i the Shaws."

The whiskey made my love to bleeze I fand in perfect bliss
So I grip't the lassie round the neck to tak a wee bit kiss
When in a crack she lifts her neive an bangs it in my jaws
Says I, "My dear what means a' this, there's queer folk i the Shaws."

A strapin chiel came up tlome an took awa my lass
Misca'd me for a country loon, a silly stupid ass,
Said I, "If I've done ony ill jist lat me ken the cause,"
He made his fit spin aff my hip, there's queer folk i the Shaws.

Aroused at last I drew my fist an gid him on the lug
Tho sairly I wis worried for't by his muckle collie dog
He bit my airms he bit my legs tore a my Sunday braws
An in the row I lost my watch; there's queer folk i the Shaws.

A policeman he cam up to me an hauled me aff to quod
They put the twines aboot my wrists an thump't me on the road
They gart me pay a good pound note e'er I got oot their claws
Catch me again when I'm te'en in by the queer folk i the Shaws.

From Grieg-Dincan Collection
RG