Texty: Barbara Dickson. Parcel of Rogues. Farewell To Whisky.

Oh Johnnie, my man, do ye no think on risin'
The day is fair spent and the night comin' on
Ye're siller's near dune and the stoup's room before ye
So rise up, my Johnnie, and come awa' hame

Wha's that at the door that speakin' so kindly
'Tis the voice of your wifie, ca'd Jeanie by name
Come in by my dearie and sit down beside me
It's time enough yet for to gang awa' hame

Don't ye mind on the time when we first fell a-courtin'
We had naething but love then to trouble our mind
We spent a' our time 'mang the sweet-scented roses
And you ne're thocht it lang then to gang awa' hame

Oh weel dae I mind on the time that ye speak o'
And weel dae I mind on yon sweet flowery glen
But thae days are a'past and will never return love
So sit down beside me and I'll soon gang hame

Don't ye mind on your bairns they're a' at hame greetin'
There's nae meal in the barrel to fill their wee wames
While ye sit here drinkin', and leave me lamentin'
O, rise up, my Johnnie, and come awa' hame

Then Johnnie rose up, and he banged the door open
Sayin' "Cursed be the tavern that ere let me in"
And cursed be the whisky that made me sae frisky
Oh fare ye well, whisky, for I'm awa' home