John Anderson My Jo

John Anderson my jo, John, When we were first acquent, Your locks were like the raven, Your bonnie brow was brent; But now your brow is beld, John, Your locks are like the snow; But blessings on your frosty pow, John Anderson, my jo.

John Anderson my jo, John, We clamb the hill thegither; And mony a canty day, John, We’ve had wi’ ane anither: Now we maun totter down, John, And hand in hand we’ll go, And sleep thegither at the foot, John Anderson, my jo.