University of Virginia Library

Life is a Weary Cobble o' Care.

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Tune—“Bob o' Dumblane.”

Life is a weary, weary, weary,
Life is a weary cobble o' care;
The poets mislead you,
Wha ca' it a meadow,
For life is a puddle o' perfect despair.
We love an' we marry,
We fight an' we vary,
Get children to plague an' confound us for aye;
Our daughters grow limmers,
Our sons they grow sinners,
An' scorn ilka word that a parent can say.
Man is a steerer, steerer, steerer,
Man is a steerer, life is a pool;
We wrestle an' fustle,
For riches we bustle,
Then drap in the grave, an' leave a' to a fool.
Youth again could I see,
Women should wilie be,
Ere I were wheedled to sorrow an' pain;
I should take care o' them,
Never to marry them;
Hang me if buckled in wedlock again.