Awa', Whigs, Awa'

Chorus
Awa', Whigs, awa'!
Awa', Whigs, awa'!
Ye're but a pack o' traitor louns,
Ye'll do nae guid at a'.
1.
Our thristles flourish'd fresh and fair,
And bonie bloom'd our roses;
But Whigs cam like a frost in June,
An' wither'd a' our posies.
2.
Our ancient crown's fa'n in the dust -
Deil blin' them wi' the stoure o't,
An' write their names in his black beuk,
Wha gae the Whigs the power o't!
3.
Our sad decay in church and state
Surpasses my descriving.
The Whigs cam o'er us for a curse,
And we hae done wi' thriving.
4.
Grim Vengeance lang has taen a nap,
But we may see him waukin -
Gude help the day when Royal heads
Are hunted like a maukin!

Away, Whigs, Away

Chorus
Away, Whigs, away!
Away, Whigs, away!
You are but a pack of traitor rascals,
You will do no good at all.

Our thistles flourished fresh and fair,
And lovely bloomed our roses;
But Whigs came like a frost in June,
And withered all our posies.

Our ancient crown has fallen in the dust -
Devil blind them with the blowing dust of it,
And write their names in his black book,
Who gave the Whigs the power of it!

Our sad decay in church and state
Surpasses my describing.
The Whigs came over us for a curse,
And we have done with thriving.

Grim Vengeance long has taken a nap,
But we may see him awaking -
God help the day when Royal heads
Are hunted like a hare!