The De'il Stick The Minister

Our wife she keeps baith beef and yell
And tea to treat the Minister;
There's nowt for me but sup the kale,
The beef's for the Minister.
Besides, a bottle keeps in by
To warm his breast when he's no dry;
While I tthe water stand maun try.
May the De'll stick the Minister!

Our Minister he's now fawn sick;
Waes me, the Minister!
Wha'll save us now fra Auld Nick,
Gin the Lord tak' the Minister?
Left to oursels, we ken fu'weel
The brent upstairs we canna spiel;
We'll just turn back and meet the De'il,
Gen the Lord tak' the Minister.

Our Minister he has nae pride,
Ne'er a bit, the Minister;
He just sits by our fireside,
Kin' he war no' the Minister.
He taks the gudewife by the hand,
Says, "John, man, sit: what maks ye stand?"
Has a' the barins at his command
He's a holy man, the Minister.

The covennant he can explain
He's a wise man, the Minsiter;
Thinks na religion like his ain
We maun think like the Minister.
The Papists are a wicked sect,
They no belang the Lord's elect;
Gin Parliament their claims accept,
May the De'il stick the Minister!

Our Minister, he's aft in want;
He's a puir man, the Minister;
Whate'er he wants we a' mun grant,
We maun supply the Minister,
And aft to him a horse we lend;
His wife and bairns on us depend,
Tho' our ainsels can hardly fend,
May the De'll stick the Minister!

Yet still he's useful in his place;
He's a braw man, the Minister;
At ika feast he says the grace,
Nane fitter than the Minister;
And when the glasses come in view,
He says "We'll drink, but no get fou',
Sic deeds the Lord does not allow."
Yet fou' gets the Minister.

He preaches loud, he saft does pray:
This says the Minister
"Ye need no fear your dying day,
Gin ye be like your Minister.
Ye'll get abune, ye needna fear;
Be sure that after me ye speer,"
But faith we doubt, when we get there,
We'll no see the Minister.
  for tune see forthcoming abc file