Oh they’re piping in the haggis and singing Rabbie’s praise,
And they’re chapping up the tatties whilst drunk and in a haze,
It can’t be any other night, it can only be the one,
They’re pissing on a poet, and really having fun!
They’re letting Ina Macintosh wail out A Red Red Rose,
While Sweet Afton’s being butchered by Isabella Vose,
And Smelly Jack from down the pub is howling Ae Fond Kiss,
And everybody’s wishing that they’d given this a miss!
The bagpipes they are wailing and the tartan is quite garish,
They stole a hundred pairs o’ breeks from all around the parish,
And if anyone is wondering what’s the noise that’s like a rave,
It’s just the sound of Rabbie, a-turning in his grave!