Get up, Get Out

When I was young and short of tongue

A silly wee fool was I

The morning after I left the school

I heard my mother sigh

Get up, get out, you lazy lout

Get into your working clothes

Up to your knees in oil and grease

With the grindstone to your nose

I bought a clock, a bonny wee clock

To help me tell the time

It waken me every morning

With a very poetic rhythm

Get up, get out, you lazy lout

Get into your working clothes

Up to your knees in oil and grease

With the grindstone to your nose

I married a lass, a bonny wee lass

And kept her many a-year.

Come what may, she began every day

By whispering in my ear

Get up, get out, you lazy lout

Get into your working clothes

Up to your knees in oil and grease

With the grindstone to your nose

Some can lie as long as they like

They’re luckier man than me

I never get to lie very long

I’m only 5 foot 3

Get up, get out, you lazy lout

Get into your working clothes

Up to your knees in oil and grease

With the grindstone to your nose

I’ll look for work tomorrow

If you just let me sleep today