Leo McGuire's Song - Billy Connolly

Ah wis headin' wi ma cromack up frae Gretna Green tae Skye

But ma journey has an element of farce

'Cos the calendar has stated — it’s the middle o' July

Yet here ah am wi' snaw up tae ma arse, Oh — yo!

Wi' ma pipes below ma oxter an' ma sporran neatly pressed

Ma pockets full o' porridge for the road

Wi' some Crawford’s Tartan Shortbread an' some tattie scones as weel

An' ah’m jist aboot tae paint masel' wi' woad. Oh — yo!

I am headin' for sweet Afton, that’s the place that ah am daft on

Where the smell o' tattie bogle fills the air

If ye poke amang the heather wi' a feather ye will see

Where the untamed hornie-golluck has his lair. Oh — yo!

Ah remember Annie Laurie, sure, ah had her in a quarry

On the road frae Tobermory tae the sea

Ah remember Mountain Daisy, an' that lassie wisnae lazy

'Cos ah remember Daisy mountin' me. Oh — Yo!

Ah remember gettin' pally wi' a peely-wally 'tally

In a chalet doon at Butlin’s camp at Ayr

An' ah gied her a bambino as she lay an' read «The Beano»

Then she said, well how did she know ah wis there? Oh — yo!

Ah wis jist a wee bit randy as she lay an' read «The Dandy»

Then she went an' put a pot upon the hob

An' she made me tagliatelli, which she balanced on her belly

So’s ah could eat while ah wis on the job. Oh — yo!

By the time the job wis over, she wis halfway through «The Rover»

An' had started on that week’s «People's Friend»

An' she made me veal escalope an' we had another wallop

Before ma strong desire came to an end

Oh the Scottish Summers have a certain lack of charm

Due mainly to the sudden rainy squalls

But the Scottish lassies can aye keep her laddie warm

By their tender ministration to his knees. Oh — yo!