Jock McLean was a Hieland lad, And he came from Tobermory. His kilt was of the real McLean That nae mair than covered his glory.
The kilt in the weather began tae shrink Till it barely covered his hurdie, An Jock was amazed one morn tae find That it didnae cover his burdie.
Tae buy a new kilt wid cost bawbees And he couldna aye wear his best yin; While to cut a piece off the burdie itsel Was a thing clean oot o the question.
Sae he thocht and he thocht, and the mair he thocht, 'Til a thocht through his head came dartin', And he took and painted the burdie's head Til it couldnae be told frae the tartan!