| Lyrics: | Green Grow the Rashes, O
cho: Green grow the rashes, O
Green grow the rashes,
O
The lasses they hae wimble bores *
The widows they hae gashes,
O.
In sober hours I am a priest,
A hero when I'm tipsy-O;
But I'm a king and
ev'ry thing
When wi' a wanton gypsie, O.
cho:
'Twas laye yestreen I met
wi' ane,
An' wow, but she was gentle, O
Ae han' she put roun' my cravat
The tither to
my pintle, O.
cho:
I dought na speak -- yet was na fley'd
My heart play'd
duntie, duntie, O
And ceremony laid aside
I fairly fun' her cuntie,
O.
cho:
Note: Other versions replace last two lines of chorus with:
The sweetest bed that e'er I got
Was the bellies o' the lasses, O!
From Burns,
Merry Muses of Caledonia (edited by Barke and Smith).
From ms. dated 1794
@bawdy
@Scots
filename[ GRRASH1
play.exe GRRASH
RG
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