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A Wee Drappie O't
This life is a journey we a' hae to gang,
And care is the burden we carry alang;
Though heavy be our burden and poverty our lot,
We'll be happy a'-the-gither ower a wee drappie o't.
Ower a wee drappie o' t, ower a wee drappie o't,
We'll be happy a'-the-gither ower a wee drappie o't.
The trees are a' stript o' their mantles sae green,
The leaves o' the forest nae langer are seen,
For winter is here wi' its cold, icy coat
And we've a' met the-gither ower a wee drappie o't.
Ower a wee drappie o't, ower a wee drappie o't,
And we've a' met the-gither ower a wee drappie o't.
Job in his lamentations said, "Man was made to mourn,
And there's nae such thing as pleasure from the cradle to the urn."
But in his meditations he surely had forgot
The pleasure man enjoys ower a wee drappie o't.
Ower a wee drappie o't, ower a wee drappie o't,
The pleasure man enjoys ower a wee drappie o't.
a'-the-gither - all together
ower - over
a wee drappie o't - a little drink
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