Oh dear oh dear you have all forgotten.
It is Robbie Burn's night.
Neaps tatties and a Haggis. The gravy a nice whisky poured on the neaps and tatties to calm them down.
And left a dram or two to warm the heart.
A Stewart I am and a Stewart I be. For what more scottish can that be. A Stewart thro and thro that's me.
But mark the Rustic, haggis-fed,
The trembling earth resounds his tread.
Clap in his walie nieve a blade,
He'll mak it whissle;
An' legs an' arms, an' hands will sned,
Like taps o' trissle.
Laurie
It is Robbie Burn's night.
Neaps tatties and a Haggis. The gravy a nice whisky poured on the neaps and tatties to calm them down.
And left a dram or two to warm the heart.
A Stewart I am and a Stewart I be. For what more scottish can that be. A Stewart thro and thro that's me.
But mark the Rustic, haggis-fed,
The trembling earth resounds his tread.
Clap in his walie nieve a blade,
He'll mak it whissle;
An' legs an' arms, an' hands will sned,
Like taps o' trissle.
Laurie
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