It's the wee mice at Mosgiel,
   that ate me out of house
               and home.

    Were it not for them, I’d
           be farming still.

  Ah, Dumfries with the jolly
       beggar's and me the
              excise man.

A taxing job to say the least,
    chasing Tam O'Shanter
       in the hills and down
        Sweet Afton’s way.

   Holy Willie's prayer gave
      no forgiveness, but a
   dram would set him free.