As I cam’ in by Turra Market,
Turra Market for to fee,
I fell in wi’ a mairket fairmer,
The Barnyards of Delgaty.
Lintin addie toorin addie,
Lintin addie toorin ee,
Lintin lowrin, lowrin, lowrin,
The barnyards of Delgaty.
He promised me the twa best horse
That ever were in Scotland seen,
But when I gaed doon tae the Barren Yairds,
There was naething there but skin and bean.
The auld black horse sat on its rump,
The auld white mare lay on her wime.
And for all that I could “Hup” and crack,
They wouldna rise at yokin’ time.
When I gae to the kirk on Sunday,
Mony’s the bonnie lass I see,
Sitting by her faither’s side
And winkin o’er the pews at me.
I can drink and no be drunk,
I can fecht and no be slain,
I can lie wi another man’s lass,
And aye be welcome to my ain.
Noo my candle is brunt oot,
My snotter’s fairly on the wane.
Sae fare ye weel ye Barnyards
Ye’ll never catch me here again.