Get up, Get Out

When I was young and short of tongue
A silly wee fool was I
The morning after I left the school
I heard my mother sigh
Get up, get out, you lazy lout
Get into your working clothes
Up to your knees in oil and grease
With the grindstone to your nose
I bought a clock, a bonny wee clock
To help me tell the time
It waken me every morning
With a very poetic rhythm
Get up, get out, you lazy lout
Get into your working clothes
Up to your knees in oil and grease
With the grindstone to your nose
I married a lass, a bonny wee lass
And kept her many a-year.
Come what may, she began every day
By whispering in my ear
Get up, get out, you lazy lout
Get into your working clothes
Up to your knees in oil and grease
With the grindstone to your nose
Some can lie as long as they like
They’re luckier man than me
I never get to lie very long
I’m only 5 foot 3
Get up, get out, you lazy lout
Get into your working clothes
Up to your knees in oil and grease
With the grindstone to your nose
I’ll look for work tomorrow
If you just let me sleep today