An English laird, he loved a lass
But she replied to him, bold as brass,
“I’ll wed nane of yer Lowland class
’Cause ye don’t love the bagpipes.”
Then quoth the Laird, “for your sweet sake
I’ll Scottish music lessons take,
My ears may ache, my ears may break,
But I shall learn the bagpipes.”

And so he got a piper lad to play with all his might.
That piper laddie played all day and far into the night.
E-ah! E-ah! E-ah!

    Though pale and calm that laird began
    Right soon to howl and yell,
    “Help! Help!” he cried, “ye heav’nly pow’rs against the pow’rs of hell”
    He shouted “Welcome, stake or rack, come torturers, burn and hack.
    But I shall be a maniac with these infernal bagpipes.”

For many days he tossed and groaned
The while that hireling piper droned.
At last one day he feebly moaned
“At last I love the bagpipes.”
So then to that Scotch girl he creeps;
Her promise true to him she keeps,
And now that laird, he eats and sleeps
To music of the bagpipes.

His seven children play the pipes, his servants play as well.
His wife’s relations play all day. The laird he plays himsel’.
E-ah! E-ah! E-ah!

    Whene’er he hears a piper play
    He gibbers in his glee.
    He sings and dances at the sound in Highland ecstasy.
    And now that English lord knows why Scotch fight and death defy
    For why should heroes fear to die who do no’ fear the bagpipes?