The Lady Nairn provided four
The Sheep's Heid Inn provided more
The kirk saw me at half a score
As drunk as drunk could be!
The company then drank to me
A' happy wit and merrily
And a' their speech being bold and free
They called me Lord o Whiskey
Please tae call me lord o whiskey-o
Please tae call me lord o whiskey-o
Hud yer weesht those beyond
Here comes the son o' John Barley corn
The harvest moon was riding high
I climbed the Ladder to the sky
And from the Seat I took the view
And fell asleep as tipplers do
And then when I was in my dreams
Screams awoke me from the deep
Burning lights surrounded me
Cackling screams and shouts of glee
A fire threw up sweet perfume
Smoked curled up unto the moon
Forms arose from the mist
Witches crying to be kissed
A clamjafrae o' cutty sarks
Were thrown into the fiery sparks
And naked saw the loons advance
And dance and dance and dance
'On Lammas nicht we cut the corn
And wish for golden yellow dawn
The land o cakes where we are born
Reveres the son, John Barley corn
As Ceres rises in the night
We hold our scythes up to the light
To bring them down upon the head
And in a blow we wake the dead'
I saw that they had cornered me
A sacrifice to barbarity
And in their lust I would be torn
For Lugh must die to be reborn
I screamed then with a mournful cry
I knew I was about to die
And reflected if it must be so
There are worse ways to go