The Burning of Auchindoun
As I cam' in by Fiddichside, on a May morning
I spied Willie MacIntosh an hour before the dawning
Turn agin, turn agin, turn agin, I bid ye
If ye burn Auchindoun, Huntly he will heid ye
Heid me or hang me, that shall never fear me
I'll burn Auchindoun though the life leaves me
As I cam' in by Auchindoun on a may morning
Auchindoun was in a bleeze, an hour before the dawning
Crawing, crawing, for a' your crouse crawin'
Ye burnt your crop an' tint your wings an hour before the dawning
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