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Oh! but it is a fine thing
To keek out o'er the dyke.
But 'tis a muckle finer thing,
When I see your hurdies fyke;
When I see your hurdies fyke, John,
And wriggle to and fro;
'Tis then I like your chaunter-pipe,
John Anderson my jo.
I'm backit like a salmon,
I'm breasted like a swan,
My wame it is a down cod,
My middle you may span;
From my crown until my tae, John,
I'm like the new-fa'n snow;
And 'tis a' for your conveniency,
John Anderson my jo.
