Duncan Gray (D'r schottische Freier) #Schwabenrock

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[Intro - guitar riffs]
Ois, Zwoi, Drei, Vier!

[Verse 1 - Swabian German]
Duncan Gray kam her zom frei'n,
Ha, ha die Heiratsluscht!
Zur Neujahrsnacht als mir voll Wein,
Ha, ha die Heiratsluscht!
S' Gretle warf so hoch d'r Kopf
hielt d'r Freier für ’nen Tropf.
sagte: "pack di dommer Tropf“
Ha, ha die Heiratsluscht!

[Verse 2 - Scots English]
Duncan Gray cam' here to woo,
Ha, ha the wooing o’t.
On new year night, when we were fu'
Ha, ha the wooing o’t.
Maggie coost her head fu' high,
look'd asklent and unco' skeigh
gart poor Duncan stand abeigh,
Ha, ha the wooing o’t.

[Verse 3 - Swabian German]
Duncan sprach ond Duncan bat,
Ha, ha die Heiratsluscht!
S' Gretle blieb taub - früh ond spat
Ha, ha die Heiratsluscht!
Duncan seufzt' als wie a Kend
Rieb sich seine Äugla blend
Sprach vom rascha Tod so g'schwend
Ha, ha die Heiratsluscht!

[Verse 4 - Scots English]
Duncan fleech'd and Duncan pray'd,
Ha, ha the wooing o’t;
Meg was deaf as Ailsa Craig,
Ha, ha the wooing o’t!
Duncan sigh'd baith out and in,
Grat his e'en baith bleer't and blin',
Spak o’ lowpin' o’er a linn,
Ha, ha the wooing o’t.

[Verse 5 - Swabian German]
Zeit wird besser wie man sai't
Ha, ha die Heiratsluscht.
Doch verschmähte Liebe net
Ha, ha die Heiratsluscht.
Duncan sprach "Soll des gescheha,
ond Se mir d' Nas verdreha,
Eh'r sott se — nach Frankreich gehn"
Ha, ha die Heiratsluscht!

[Verse 6 - Scots English]
Time and chance are but a tide,
Ha, ha the wooing o’t.
Slighted love is said to bide,
Ha, ha the wooing o’t.
Shall I like a fool quoth he,
For a haughty hizzie die?
She may gae to France for me,
Ha, ha the wooing o’t.

[Verse 7 - English]
Duncan was a lad o’ grace,
Ha, ha the wooing o’t!
Maggie was a piteous case,
Ha, ha the wooing o’t!
Duncan wuld na be her death,
Swelling pity smoord his wrath;
Now there crows and cantle baith,
Ha, ha the wooing o’t.

[Outro - English]
How it comes, let doctors tell,
Ha, ha the wooing o’t.
Meg grew sick as he grew heal,
Ha, ha the wooing o’t.
Something in her bosom wrings
For relief a sigh she brings,
And o her e'en they spak sic things.
Ha, ha the wooing o’t.

(Ha, ha the wooing o't.)
(Ha, ha the wooing o't.)

2144/7500

[Intro - guitar riffs] Ois, Zwoi, Drei, Vier! [Verse 1 - Swabian German] Duncan Gray kam her zom frei'n, Ha, ha die Heiratsluscht! Zur Neujahrsnacht als mir voll Wein, Ha, ha die Heiratsluscht! S' Gretle warf so hoch d'r Kopf hielt d'r Freier für ’nen Tropf. sagte: "pack di dommer Tropf“ Ha, ha die Heiratsluscht! [Verse 2 - Scots English] Duncan Gray cam' here to woo, Ha, ha the wooing o’t. On new year night, when we were fu' Ha, ha the wooing o’t. Maggie coost her head fu' high, look'd asklent and unco' skeigh gart poor Duncan stand abeigh, Ha, ha the wooing o’t. [Verse 3 - Swabian German] Duncan sprach ond Duncan bat, Ha, ha die Heiratsluscht! S' Gretle blieb taub - früh ond spat Ha, ha die Heiratsluscht! Duncan seufzt' als wie a Kend Rieb sich seine Äugla blend Sprach vom rascha Tod so g'schwend Ha, ha die Heiratsluscht! [Verse 4 - Scots English] Duncan fleech'd and Duncan pray'd, Ha, ha the wooing o’t; Meg was deaf as Ailsa Craig, Ha, ha the wooing o’t! Duncan sigh'd baith out and in, Grat his e'en baith bleer't and blin', Spak o’ lowpin' o’er a linn, Ha, ha the wooing o’t. [Verse 5 - Swabian German] Zeit wird besser wie man sai't Ha, ha die Heiratsluscht. Doch verschmähte Liebe net Ha, ha die Heiratsluscht. Duncan sprach "Soll des gescheha, ond Se mir d' Nas verdreha, Eh'r sott se — nach Frankreich gehn" Ha, ha die Heiratsluscht! [Verse 6 - Scots English] Time and chance are but a tide, Ha, ha the wooing o’t. Slighted love is said to bide, Ha, ha the wooing o’t. Shall I like a fool quoth he, For a haughty hizzie die? She may gae to France for me, Ha, ha the wooing o’t. [Verse 7 - English] Duncan was a lad o’ grace, Ha, ha the wooing o’t! Maggie was a piteous case, Ha, ha the wooing o’t! Duncan wuld na be her death, Swelling pity smoord his wrath; Now there crows and cantle baith, Ha, ha the wooing o’t. [Outro - English] How it comes, let doctors tell, Ha, ha the wooing o’t. Meg grew sick as he grew heal, Ha, ha the wooing o’t. Something in her bosom wrings For relief a sigh she brings, And o her e'en they spak sic things. Ha, ha the wooing o’t. (Ha, ha the wooing o't.) (Ha, ha the wooing o't.)

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