In Exile Metropolitan P.C. 367, E.C.
Up by the back o' BENNACHIE,
Up North and hyne awa!
Och! that's far I would like to be
For athing here 's a thra '.
Up at the back o' Bennachie,
Far GAUDIE rins sae sweet!
Gin I were there I 'd be at hame,
And off the hard steen street.
The street, the street, the weary street ,
Be 't day shift or at nicht—
A hell o' shops and motor cars
In bleezin' waste o' licht.
The thing roars by like DON in spate,
But God knows far it gings—
I 'm on the bank an' needna speer
Foo 't a' thegither hings.
I just pace on wi' steady beat
An' files tak up a stan',
At corner bits, to ease my feet
An' gie the tyauve a scan.
An 'then I'm back 'tween O YNE and I NSCH ,
In blithesome caller air,
Wi' ae e'e on the Mither Tap ,
The tither plooin' fair:—
Back far I ken it's fine to be
In hairst time or in snaw —
Roun' by the fit o' BENNACHIE,
The ae kind bit o' a'.
Up North and hyne awa!
Och! that's far I would like to be
For athing here 's a thra '.
Up at the back o' Bennachie,
Far GAUDIE rins sae sweet!
Gin I were there I 'd be at hame,
And off the hard steen street.
The street, the street, the weary street ,
Be 't day shift or at nicht—
A hell o' shops and motor cars
In bleezin' waste o' licht.
The thing roars by like DON in spate,
But God knows far it gings—
I 'm on the bank an' needna speer
Foo 't a' thegither hings.
I just pace on wi' steady beat
An' files tak up a stan',
At corner bits, to ease my feet
An' gie the tyauve a scan.
An 'then I'm back 'tween O YNE and I NSCH ,
In blithesome caller air,
Wi' ae e'e on the Mither Tap ,
The tither plooin' fair:—
Back far I ken it's fine to be
In hairst time or in snaw —
Roun' by the fit o' BENNACHIE,
The ae kind bit o' a'.
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