For Gold The Merchant Ploughs The Main,

When Matters Are Desperate We Must Put On A Desperate Face.

Just Now I've Taen The Fit O' Rhyme / My Barmie Noddle's Working Prime.

Some Hae Meat And Canna Eat, And Some Wad Eat That Want It, But We Hae Meat And We Can Eat, And Sae The Lord Be Thankit.

Wee, Sleekit, Cowrin, Tim'rous Beastie, O, What A Panic's In Thy Breastie!

That Hour O' Night's Black Arch The Keystane.