John Anderson

    When we were first acquent

    Your locks were like the raven¹

    Your bonnie brow was brent；

    But now your brow is beld John

    Your locks are like the snow；

    But blessings² on your frosty pow

    John Anderson my jo.

    John Anderson my jo John

    We clamb the hill thegither；

    And mony a canty day John

    We've had wi' ane anither：

    Now we maun totter³ down John；

    But hand in hand we'll go

    And sleep thegither at the foot

    John Anderson my jo！