News, Lassies, News

  news, lassies, news
  there's news, lassies, news,
  gude news i've to tell!
  there's a boatfu' o' lads
  come to our town to sell.
  chorus—the wean wants a cradle,
  and the cradle wants a cod:
  i'll no gang to my bed,
  until i get a nod.
  father, quo' she, mither, quo she,
  do what you can,
  i'll no gang to my bed,
  until i get a man.
  the wean, c.
  i hae as gude a craft rig
  as made o'yird and stane;
  and waly fa' the ley-crap,
  for i maun till'd again.
  the wean, c.