O're the hills beyond the Clyde, in the land of McLean Lives the lass I made my bride, bonny Mary Jane, She has hair like golden mist and no other man has kissed My sweet lass of Tobermory, bonnie Mary Jane. Oh the battle drums are beating and the bagpipes loudly ring, But above the roar of cannon I can hear her sing. Through the clinging mud and rain, Heedless of the cold and pain, I will live or die for you, my bonnie Mary Jane.
Up and onward o'er the slope, comrades lie around me slain, But my heart is full of hope for my Mary Jane, I would fight a thousand men aye and fight them all again, Not for country, not for king but for my Mary Jane. There is burning all around me and the sky is all aflame, But when guns begin to rattle, I just hear her name, Though the powder burns my eyes, If I fall I'll surely rise, And come back again to Scotland and my Mary Jane.
Now the battle field is still, just the splash of falling rain, There's a red mist o'er my eyes, bonnie Mary Jane, And as night begins to fall, I can't walk but I can crawl, And I'm coming back to you, my bonnie Mary Jame. And I'll see you in the summer when the gowans are in bloom, And we'll walk the hills together through the bonnie broom. Where the burn sings to the glen, I will kiss you once again, When I'm back with you in Scotland bonnie Mary Jane