the weary pund o' tow

chorus.—the weary pund, the weary pund,

the weary pund o' tow;

i think my wife will end her life,

before she spin her tow.

i bought my wife a stane o' lint,

as gude as e'er did grow,

and a' that she has made o' that

is ae puir pund o' tow.

the weary pund, c.

there sat a bottle in a bole,

beyont the ingle low;

and aye she took the tither souk,