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Burns Robert

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Awa' whigs awa'
(robert burns)
Our thrissles flourish'd fresh and fair,
And bonie bloom'd our roses;
But whigs cam like a frost in june,
An wither'd a our posies.
Awa, whigs, awa!
Awa, whigs, awa!
Ye're but a pack o traitor louns,
Ye'll do nae guid at a'.
Our ancient crown's fa'n in the dust;
Deil blin' them wi the stoure o't,
An write their names in the black beuk
Wha gae the whigs the power o't!
& ch
Our sad decay in church and state
Surpasses my descriving:
The whig cam o'er us for a curse,
An we hae done wi thriving.
& ch
Grim vengeance lang has taen a nap,
But we may see him waukin:
Gude help the day when royal heads
Are hunted like a maukin!
& ch
Tune: awa whigs awa (303)
Filename( awawhigs
Play.exe awawhigs
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