News, Lassies, News

    news, lassies, news
    there's news, lassies, news,
    gude news i've to tell!
    there's a boatfu' o' lads
    come to our town to sell.
    chorus—the wean wants a cradle,
    and the cradle wants a cod:
    i'll no gang to my bed,
    until i get a nod.
    father, quo' she, mither, quo she,
    do what you can,
    i'll no gang to my bed,
    until i get a man.
    the wean, c.
    i hae as gude a craft rig
    as made o'yird and stane;
    and waly fa' the ley-crap,
    for i maun till'd again.
    the wean, c.