I don't know if anyone else will have a clue what this is (my version, anyway of what I can make out of a bit of Scot's brogue, or something) "Aye, an' a bit o' ma skirl t' settle o' rack an' ruin, (or, 'tis a tale o' wrack an' ruin) Run it doon ba the heym, a' ma plase Well I slapped me an' I slipped it doon in the seyd An' I creyd creyd, creyd The feer o' fallin' doon ta ken, never bought the rese (or never b' aught the way) And then Craig Marrion! Get out wi' ye claymore out o' mi pockets I ran doon Doon the wudden stayr, pickin' the fearye horde that was fallen aroun' ma feet "Neyva!" 'e creyd, "Neyva shall I let ye get me aliv' Ye rottin' hoond o' the Burnie crew!" Well, I snatched for the blayd o' ma claymore Cut n' thrust an' I fell doon before 'im round his feet "Aye!" a roar 'e creyd, frae' the bott'm of his heart That I would nay fall But as deyd, deyd as it can be By his feet, d'ye ken? And the wind creyd Mary."
