Awa Whigs Awa Songtext

Our thrissles flourish'd fresh and fair, And bonie bloom'd our roses; But Whigs cam like a frost in June, An wither'd a our posies. CHORUS Awa, Whigs, awa! Awa, Whigs, awa! Ye're but a pack o traitor louns, Ye'll do nae guid at a'. Our ancient crown's fa'n in the dust; Deil blin' them wi the stoure o't, An write their names in the black beuk Wha gae the Whigs the power o't! & ch Our sad decay in church and state Surpasses my descriving: The Whig cam o'er us for a curse, An we hae done wi thriving. & ch Grim Vengeance lang has taen a nap, But we may see him waukin: Gude help the day when Royal heads Are hunted like a maukin!