Tho’ women’s minds, like winter winds,
May shift, and turn, an’ a’ that,
The noblest breast adores them maist—
A consequence I draw that.
Chorus
For a’ that, an’ a’ that,
And twice as meikle’s a’ that;
The bonie lass that I loe best
She’ll be my ain for a’ that.
Great love I bear to a’ the fair,
Their humble slave, an’ a’ that;
But lordly will, I hold it still
A mortal sin to thraw that.
For a’ that, &c.
But there is ane aboon the lave,
Has wit, and sense, an’ a’ that;
A bonie lass, I like her best,
And wha a crime dare ca’ that?
For a’ that, &c.
In rapture sweet this hour we meet,
Wi’ mutual love an’ a’ that,
But for how lang the flie may stang,
Let inclination law that.
For a’ that, &c.
Their tricks an’ craft hae put me daft.
They’ve taen me in, an’ a’ that;
But clear your decks, and here’s—“The Sex!”
I like the jads for a’ that.
For a’ that, &c.
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