Rory Murphy

Saw ye Rory Murphy, Rory Murphy, Rory Murphy.
Saw ye Rory Murphy coming frae Dumbarton.
Saw ye Rory Murphy, Rory Murphy, Rory Murphy.
Saw ye Rory Murphy coming frae Dumbarton.
Now Rory was a piper bold.
Highland blood with in him flowed.
And lowland bodies hearts aye glowed.
To the tunes of Rory Murphy.
He filled the warriors breats with fire.
He cheered the heart of sage and sire.
And made the listening groups admire.
As he gaed through Dumbarton.
Saw ye Rory Murphy, Rory Murphy, Rory Murphy.
Saw ye Rory Murphy coming frae Dumbarton.
He had a beard of lammer gloss.
His cheeks were fresher than the rose.
His sparkling eyes as black as sloe's.
And the nose as red a partan.
Rory stood 6 feet or more.
The brawest man on Scotland's shore.
And all the lassies did adore.
The piper of Dumbarton.
Saw ye Rory Murphy, Rory Murphy, Rory Murphy.
Saw ye Rory Murphy coming frae Dumbarton.
He oft times played the night awa.
And never was he tired at a'.
Piping note for one and a'.
And a tune for every tartan.
When Rory drank an extra gill.
You'd hear him on Ben Lomond hill.
As clear as in Dumbarton.
Saw ye Rory Murphy, Rory Murphy, Rory Murphy.
Saw ye Rory Murphy coming frae Dumbarton.
It was whiskey that did him betray.
While tottering home more drunk each day.
He fell headlong all the brae.
That killed him dead for certain.
No more we'll hear his witching tones.
No more he'll blow his highland tones.
His bones lie cold beneath the stones.
In the kirkyards of Dumbarton.
Saw ye Rory Murphy, Rory Murphy, Rory Murphy.
Saw ye Rory Murphy coming frae Dumbarton.
Saw ye Rory Murphy, Rory Murphy, Rory Murphy.
Saw ye Rory Murphy coming frae Dumbarton.
Saw ye Rory Murphy, Rory Murphy, Rory Murphy.
Saw ye Rory Murphy, the piper of Dumbarton.