| Oh, dear me, the mill runs fast
|
| The poor wee shifters cannae get their rest
|
| Shifting bobbins course and fine
|
| They fairly make you work for your ten and nine
|
| Oh, dear me, I wish the day was done
|
| Running up and down the pass is no fun
|
| Shifting, piecing, spinning warp, weft and twine
|
| To feed and clothe your bairnes off a ten and nine
|
| Oh, dear me, the mill runs fast
|
| The poor wee shifters cannae get their rest
|
| Shifting bobbins course and fine
|
| They fairly make you work for your ten and nine
|
| Oh, dear me, the world is ill divided
|
| Them that works the hardest are the least provided
|
| But I’m maun bide contented dark days are fine
|
| There’s no much pleasure living off a ten and nine
|
| Oh, dear me, the mill runs fast
|
| The poor wee shifters cannae get their rest
|
| Shifting bobbins course and fine
|
| They fairly make you work for your ten and nine |