I'll Take the Left Leg

Tune: Loch Lomond

Oh, I'll take the left leg, and you take the right leg,
It's my turn to give her the caber.
'Cos me and my true love have never been the same
Since I shared her with the next door neighbor.

When the Lord and his band were shaping up this land,
They found that they had left over
A pike of useless crap on the left side of the map
That they'd hacked out of the White Cliffs of Dover.

Angel Gabriel scratched his head and asked the Lord instead
"What can we do call a land so mean, Sire?"
"Och, Gabe, call it what ye will, maybe Largs or Motherwell
No, on second thoughts we'll call it Aberdeenshire."

Now there was me and Auntie Annie,
Cousin Jock and dear old Granny
And we'd all had a roll in the heather.
'Cos we come from Braemar, and we'll not forget that our
Family motto is, "We're all queers together."

Now the old goat died, around Eastertide,
So jock rammed the bloody coal scuttle up her.
He threw her on to boil, then he topped her off with soil
And served her up as haggis supper.

When a visiting rugby team took a whore from Aberdeen
To agree on a price took an eternity.
But she took them without a fuss and had triplets on the bus
And sued them for collective paternity.

Now wee Ronnie teaches pipes to girls of all types,
His methods are revelation.
Just cut your bloody banter, get your mouth round my chanter
And I'll complete your education.

Now in Burn's magic prose, a Scottish girl is like a rose.
My lass was more like Ben Nevis when I found her.
Her southern slopes were gray, half the nation knew the way,
And the Hash had run up and down her.

 

Keywords: rugby, sex, Scotch