And here's a hand, my trusty fiere, And gie's a hand o' thine, And we'll take a right guid-willie waught, Your locks are like the snaw, II John Anderson my jo, John, And sleep thegither at the foot, John Anderson, my jo! WILLIE BREW'D A PECK O' MAUT Chorus We are na fou, we're nae that fou, I O, Willie brew'd a peck o' maut, And Rob and Allan cam to see; Three blyther hearts that lee-lang night, II Here are we met, three merry boys, ΙΟ 15 5 ΙΟ |