Afigamli.is - Grandfather's guitar site

Donald, Where’s Your Trousers?

I just down from the Isle of Skye

I’m no very big but I’m awful shy

All the lassies shout as I walk by,

„Donald, Where’s Your Trousers?“

Let the wind blow high and the wind blow low

Through the streets in my kilt I go

All the lassies cry, „Hello!

Donald, where’s your trousers?“

I went to a fancy ball

It was slippery in the hall

I was afeared that I may fall

Because I nay had on trousers

I went down to London town

To have a little fun in the underground

All the Ladies turned their heads around, saying,

„Donald, where’s your trousers?“

The lassies love me every one

But they must catch me if they can

You canna put the brakes on a highland man, saying,

„Donald, where’s your trousers?„

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