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I just down from the Isle of Skye |
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I'm no very big but I'm awful shy |
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All the lassies shout as I walk by, |
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"Donald, Where's Your Trousers?" |
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Let the wind blow high and the wind blow low |
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Through the streets in my kilt I go |
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All the lassies cry, "Hello! |
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Donald, where's your trousers?" |
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I went to a fancy ball |
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It was slippery in the hall |
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I was afeared that I may fall |
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Because I nay had on trousers |
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I went down to London town |
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To have a little fun in the underground |
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All the Ladies turned their heads around, saying, |
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"Donald, where's your trousers?" |
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The lassies love me every one |
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But they must catch me if they can |
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You canna put the breeks on a highland man, saying, |
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"Donald, where's your trousers?" |
