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Willie Kemp

When I want tae lauchin' I think on the scene
When a'body roun' aboot cam' ower tae clean,
But clairted themsel's richt up tae the e'en
At the muckin' o' Geordie's byre.
The Rocher, wee Wullikie, and Mickie Doo,
The auld wife hersel' an' Teeny McCrew;
Wi' dozens o' ithers that left aff the pleugh
For the muckin' o' Geordie's byre.
Chorus :
Oh! Siccan a sottar was a'body in,
Five mile awa' ye could hear the din;
Nae wunner the vera coo started tae grin
At the muckin' o' Geordie's byre.
The whisky gaed roun' Tammy flein' the doo'
And aye as they drank, the mair they got fou'
The only anes sober, the calf an' the coo
At the muckin' o' Geordie's byre.
Tammy roared oot "Ring the bell noo for mair"
Syne tuggit the coo's tail, and pu'd oot the hair;
When she kickit oot he gaed up in the air
At the muckin' o' Geordie's byre.
The first on the beesom was Teeny McCrew,
Sittin' doon on the stibble end 'cause she was fou'
And she kickit up sic a hullaballoo
At the muckin' o' Geordie's byre.
She yowled like a hip in distress in a gale,
And aye on the sair bit Teeny wad wail;
So they bandaged her up wi' her auld bridal veil
At the muckin' o' Geordie's byre.
The bobby cam' roun' tae quell doon the soun'
The cratur got lost whaur the rucks hae their foun'
He fell intae the midden and was likely tae droon
At the muckin' o' Geordie's byre.
The weicht o' him syne sent the barrow in bits,
The wheel cairred on and the auld wife it hits;
Losh! ye should hae seen how she did the splits
At the muckin' o' Geordie's byre.
Geordie lay doon sayin' he wanted tae dee,
Syne wanted the lave o's a fareweel tae gie
Fell asleep in the strae wi' the barley bree
At the muckin' o'  Geordie's byre.
He dreamt and said "Mistress, I'll kiss ye the noo,
But losh! what's gane wrang? ye've an awfa' wet moo"
When he crackit a spunk, he was kissin' the coo
At the muckin' o' Geordie's byre.
Ane by ane coupit ower in the griep,
Ane by ane they a' fell asleep;
Bye and bye the moon took a peep
At the muckin' o' Geordie's byre.
On the riggin' an owlet lat oot a "Yahoo"
But they didna' need ony hush-ee-balloo;
Reveille next day was the moo o' the coo
At the muckin' o' Geordie's byre.
Footnote : A splendid song by Willie Kemp, 'The King o the Cornkisters', who was a great favourite of my grandparents. I spent many a happy hour on their wind-up gramophone playing the songs of William Kemp and the comedian Harry Gordon. Happy memories.


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