Bothwell the Borderer ©

Mary met him in Dunbar at a dance
An’ he showed her his sturdy big Castle
She wis a’ taken oan wi’ his knowledge o’ France
So she didnae gie him much hassle

Wi’ his persuasive technique, an’ his manly physique
He wormed his way intae her favour
His dancin’ wis fine if he stayed aff the wine
But he jist couldnae stoap this behaviour

He wis a bandit, a robber, a right bob-a-jobber
An’ he danced wi’ an axe in his belt
She merried the chancer, ‘cause he wis a guid dancer
Or wis it the shaft o’ the chopper she’d felt?

Mary had only ane question tae raise
As soon as their heids hit the pillow
‘Why dae ye dance wi’ an axe roon’ yer waist?’
He said, ‘It’s handy for Strippin’ the Willow’

His comeuppance came at Carberry Hill
When he showed her his Dashin’ White Sergeant
Beatin’ a retreat, tae a lively quadrille
Wi’ a yellow leather streak, oan his red leather garment