I've just got down from the Isle of Skye,
I'm not very big but I'm awfully shy,
The lassies shout as I walk by,
"Donald, where's your trousers?"
Chorus:
Let the wind blow high, let 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
Cause I had nae on trousers.
The lassies love me, every one
They must catch me if they can
Ye cannae put the breeks on a Highland man,
saying, "Donald where's your trousers?"
I went down to London town
To have a little fun on the Underground
Ladies turned their heads around
saying, "Donald, where's your trousers?"
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