I've just come back from the Isle of Skye Im no very big and I'm awful shy And the lassies shout when I go by "Donald where's yer troosers" A lassie took me to a ball And it was slippery in the hall And I was feart that I would fall Fur I hadnae on ma' troosers To wear the kilt is my delight It isna wrong, I know its right The islanders would get a fright If they saw me in the troosers Let the wind blow high, let the wind blow low Through the streets in my kilt I'll go And all the lassies shout hello "Donald where's yer troosers"
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