Brither Jamie cam west, wi' a braw burn trout,
An' speer'd how acquaintance were greeing;
He brought it frae Peebles, tied up in a clout,
An' said it wad just be a preeing, a preeing,
An' said it wad just be a preeing.
In the burn that rins by his grandmother's door
This trout had lang been a dweller,
Ae night fell asleep a wee piece frae the shore,
An' was kill'd wi' a stane by the miller, the miller,
An' was kill'd wi' a stane by the miller.
This trout it was gutted an' dried on a nail
That grannie had reested her ham on,
Weel rubbed wi' saut, frae the head to the tail,
An' kipper'd as 't had been a sa'mon, a sa'mon,
An' kipper'd as 't had been a sa'mon.
This trout it was boil'd an' set ben on a plate,
Nae fewer than ten made a feast o't;
The banes and the tail, they were gi'en to the cat,
But we lickit our lips at the rest o't, the rest o't,
But we lickit our lips at the rest o't.
When this trout it was eaten, we were a' like to rive,
Sae ye maunna think it was a wee ane,
May ilk trout in the burn grow muckle an' thrive,
An' Jamie bring west aye a preeing, a preeing,
An' Jamie bring west aye a preeing.
