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Aye an' a bit of mackerel, rack and down
Ran it by the home, and I flew
Well, it me and I flopped it down in the shade
And I cried, cried,

The tear had fallen he had taken, never back to raise
And then cried Mary, and took out wi' Claymore
Right a' pocket, I ran down, down by the mountain side
Battlin' the fiery horde that was around the feet

"Never!," he cried, "Never ye get me alive
Ye rotten hound of the crew!"
Well I snatched fer the blade and a cut and thrust
And I fell down him round his feet

Aye, a he cried fray the bottom of 'is heart
That I would nay but as dead
Dead as I can by why' feet, d'ya
And the wind cried