We’re a’ met thegither here ae sit and tae crack,
Wi’ oor glasses in oor hands and oor wark upon oor back.
There’s no’ a trade amang them a’ could either mend or mak
If it wisnae for the wark o’ the weavers.
Chorus
if it wisnae for the weavers, what would we do?
We wadnae hae clati made o’ oor woo’,
We wadnae hae a coat, na, neither black nor blue,
Gin it wisnae for the wark o’ the weavers.
There’s them that’s independent o’ ither tradesmen’s work,
The women need nae barber, the dykers need nae clerk,
But nane o’ them can dae wi’oot a coat or a sark,
Aye they a’ need the wark o’ the weavers.
Oor sodgers and oor sailors, we ken they’re a’ bold,
But, faith, if they had nae claes they couldnae fecht for cold,
The high and low, the rich and poor, a’body young or old,
Aye they a’ wear the wark o’ the weavers.
Noo weavin’ is a trade that never can fail,
As lang as we need aye cloot tae keep a body hale,
Sae let us a’ get merry ower a bicker o’ gud ale,
And drink tae the health o’ the weavers.