Ohhh, the glory o’ the Scottish egg done right... A bonnie wee egg, boiled tender and white Wrapped up in sausage so hearty and right Then rolled in crumbs all golden and grand Like treasure itself from the Highlands o’ man Scottish egg, ye beautiful thing Fit for a laird or a weathered old king Crunch on the outside, warm in the middle Makes a grown Scotsman dance like a fiddle By the fire in the pub with the cold wind blowin’ There’s nae finer comfort a hungry man knowin’ One bite alone and the whole soul sings Praise tae the maker o’ glorious things Scottish egg, ye beautiful thing Fit for a laird or a weathered old king Crunch on the outside, warm in the middle Makes a grown Scotsman dance like a fiddle Me lovely dear wife by the stove late at night Crafts Scottish eggs cooked up proper and right Golden and crisp with love in each bite Turns our wee cottage tae pure warm delight Scottish egg, ye beautiful thing Fit for a laird or a weathered old king Crunch on the outside, warm in the middle Makes a grown Scotsman dance like a fiddle
