Many's the hoolie we've been at
At home across the sea
And at New Year wi' stout and beer
We'd go upon the spree
And the Scots they don't just make whoopee
Or drink with Mum and Dad
At the thirty-first of December, boys
They all go ravin' mad
Forgive me, friends, for being rude
I'm not, you will agree
The Irish too are a crazy crew
Just look at Bob and me
For a Scotsman seeing the New Year in
Is a sight for gods and men
And it takes an Irish Paddy, boys
To be equal to him then