Aye in time we hear yer callin',
Yer mucket words o' the mairn fallin'.
Ah see yer schemes, laid gipet an cal,
Yer feverish plots ah see em ahl.

So Aff ma hinkin an aff my ma back min,
Av geet yer bags ye sees av packed em.
Awa we ye poison flooer,
Tae rubbled ruin, yer cairn nae moor.


Yes in time we hear your calling,
Your soiled words of morning falling.
All your schemes, laid childish and cold,
Your feverish plots i see them all.

So leave my thoughts and leave my back man,
I have your bags, you see ive packed them.
Away with you you poison flower,
To rubbled ruin, your mountain no more.