When I was a freckled bit bairn
And cam in frae my ploys to the fire,
Wi' my buits a' clamjamphried wi' shairn
And my jaicket a' speldered wi' mire,
I got gloomin' and glunchin' and paiks,
And nae bite frae the press or the pan,
And my auld grannie said as she skelped me to bed,
'Hech, sirs, what a burden is man!'
 
When I was a lang-leggit lad,
At waddin's and kirns a gey cheild,
I hae happit a lass in my maud
And gone cauldrife that she micht hae beild,
And convoyed her bye bogles and stirks,
A kiss at the hindmost my plan;
But a' that I fand was the wecht o' her hand,
And 'Hech, sirs, what a burden is man!'
 
When Ailie and me were made yin
We set up in a canty bit cot;
Sair wrocht we day oot and day in,
We were unco content wi' oor lot.
But whiles wi' a neebor I'd tak
A gless that my heid couldna stan';
Syne she'd greet for a week, and nae word wad she speak
But 'Hech, sirs, what a burden is man!'
 
She dee'd, and my dochter and me
For the lave wi' ilk ither maun shift.
Nae tentier lass could ye see;
The wooers cam doun like a drift;
But sune wi' an unco blae glower
Frae the doorstep they rade and they ran,
And she sigh to hersel', as she gae'd to the well
'Hech sirs, what a burden is man!'
 
She's mairrit by noo and she's got
A white-heided lass o' her ain.
White-heided mysel, as I stot
Roond the doors o' her shouther I'm fain.
What think ye that wean said yestreen?
I'll tell ye, believe't if ye can;
She primmed up her mou' and said saft as a doo,
'Hech, sirs, what a burden is man!'