O, An Ye Were Dead, Guidman

Chorus
Sing, round about the fire wi' a rung she ran,
An' round about the fire wi' a rung she ran: -
' Your horns shall tie you to the staw,
An' I shall bang your hide, guidman!'
1.
O, an ye were dead, guidman,
A green turf on your head, guidman!
I wad bestow my widowhood
Upon a rantin Highlandman!
2.
There's sax eggs in the pan, guidman,
There's sax eggs in the pan, guidman,
There's ane to you, and twa to me,
And three to our John Highlandman!
3.
A sheep-head's in the pot, guidman,
A sheep-head's in the pot, guidman,
The flesh to him, the broo to me,
An' the horns become your brow, guidman!

O, If You Were Dead, Husband

Chorus
Sing, round about the fire with a cudgel she ran,
And round about the fire with a cudgel she ran: -
' Your horns shall tie you to the stall,
And I shall thrash your hide, husband!'

O, if you were dead, husband,
A green turf on your head, husband!
I would bestow my widowhood
Upon a roistering Highland man!

There are six eggs in the pan, husband,
There are six eggs in the pan, husband,
There is one to you, and two to me,
And three to our John Highland man!

A sheep's head is in the pot, husband,
A sheep's head is in the pot, husband,
The flesh to him, the broth to me,
And the horns become your forehead, husband!