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Poem by Robert Burns The Deil’s awa’ wi’ the Exciseman 1.
The Deil cam fiddling thro’ the town,
And danced awa wi’ the Exciseman;
And ilka wife cried “Auld Mahoun,
We wish you luck o’ your prize, man.”
Chorus
The Deil’s awa, the Deil’s awa,
The Deil’s awa wi’ the Exciseman;
He’s danc’d awa, he’s danc’d awa,
He’s danc’d awa wi’ the Excisemen.
2.
We’ll mak our maut, and brew our drink,
We’ll dance, and sing, and rejoice, man;
And mony thanks to the muckle black De’il
That danced awa wi’ the Exciseman.
Chorus
The Deil’s awa, the Deil’s awa,
The Deil’s awa wi’ the Exciseman;
He’s danc’d awa, he’s danc’d awa,
He’s danc’d awa wi’ the Excisemen.
3.
There’s threesome reels, and foursome reels,
There’s hornpipes and strathspeys, man;
But the ae best dance e’er cam to our lan’,
Was – the De’il’s awa wi’ the Exciseman.
Chorus
The Deil’s awa, the Deil’s awa,
The Deil’s awa wi’ the Exciseman;
He’s danc’d awa, he’s danc’d awa,
He’s danc’d awa wi’ the Excisemen.
1792 Robert Burns Robert Burns's other poems:
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