Lies, Spies, an’ Pies in the Skies ©

‘Och! Mary, Mary, Mary my Queen
Whit were ye daein’ in the common green
Wi’ yon big laddie wi’ the hair sae red
An’ me here waitin’ ye tae come back tae bed?’

‘Och! Darnley, Darnley, ye’ve always a moan
I wish that ye’d leave a poor body alone
The laddie, he wis jist helpin’ me choose
A couple o’ mince pies, tae bring back tae youse’

‘Och! Mary, Mary, nae mair o’ yer lies,
Aboot Ginger an’ you an’ a couple o’ pies
Fair weel I ken yon Ginger McAskill
He’s naethin’ but a dirty big rascal’

Mary then decided that she’d had aboot enough
Although she agreed that she liked a bit o’ rough
She arranged wi’ big Ginger an’ anither big tough
Tae waylay Darnley oan his way tae Edinburgh

In Kirk o’ Field hoose, efter denner an’ stuff
A large jug o’ ale an’ a wee pinch o’ snuff
A barrel o’ gunpooder went up wi’ a puff
Goodbye Darnley, tough, tough, tough