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THE MAN SAYS:
Laverock i' the lift, (sky)
Hae ye nae sang-thrift,
'At ye scatter't sae heigh, an' lat it a' drift?
Wasterfu' laverock!
Dinna ye ken
'At ye hing ower men
Wha haena a sang or a penny to spen'?
Hertless laverock!
But up there, you,
I' the bow o' the blue,
Haud skirlin' on as gien a' war new! (keep shrilling)
Toom-heidit laverock! (empty-headed)
Haith! ye're ower blythe:
I see a great scythe
Swing whaur yer nestie lies, doon i' the lythe, (shelter)
Liltin' laverock!
Eh, sic a soon'!
Birdie, come doon --
Ye're fey to sing sic a merry tune, (death-doomed)
Gowkit laverock! (silly)
Come to yer nest;
Yer wife's sair prest;
She's clean worn oot wi' duin' her best,
Rovin' laverock!
Winna ye haud?
Ye're surely mad!
Is there naebody there to gie ye a daud? (blow)
Menseless laverock!
Come doon an' conform;
Pyke an honest worm,
An' hap yer bairns frae the muckle storm,
Spendrife laverock!
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