These are the words I can get, and the ones I can't. If someone can help me to correct and complete the lyrics, many thanks. I'm aware it looks like the transcription of a Sumerian text, but English is not my mother language, nor it is Scottish. So, forgive me and help. Thank you. Roberto

Lord Thomas he was a very fine man
...
Fair Annie she was the fairest woman
That ever the sun shone on

Lord Thomas he spoke a word in jest
And Annie took it ill
He said, "I'll marry ... no ... maidens
Without my parents' will."

Then Thomas he has hame to his mither
And bowed low doon to his knee
"Oh will I wed the nut-brown maid
Or shall I wed Fair Annie?"

"The nut-brown maid has cows and yowes
Fair Annie she has nane
And for my blessings, my son Thomas
I pray you let her alane."

Then oot it spak his little sister
Stood by her nurse's knee
"O marry ye your Fair Annie
And let the other ane be."

"Her cow(?) may die in her covin(?)
And her oxen(?) may droon in the myre
But marry ye your Fair Annie
You'll get your heart's desire."

"Her cow(?) may die in her covin(?)
And her oxen(?)may hang in the pleugh
But marry ye your Fair Annie
And you'll get gear anew(?)."

Lord Thomas he's gane to Annie's bow'r-door
And tirled low(?) at the pin
Ne'er ready e'er was than Fair Annie
To let Lord Thomas in

"It's will ye come to my wedding, Annie
The morn's to be the day."
"It's never I fit", said Fair Annie
"Unless the bride I be."

Lord Thomas he gaed up the high highway
And Annie she gaed doon the glen
And Annie shone as fair her lane
As Thomas and a' his men

"O where got ye the water, Annie
That washed you so clean?"
"I got it by my mither's bow'r-door
Beneath a marble stane."

"Oh ye maun ... my ... , Annie
And you maun ... my love
Until my wife hae born a son
And that will endure love."

"I will na ... your ... , Lord Thomas
I will na ... your love
But ye maun gae to your nut-brown bride
... constant(?) prove."

Then he ... hame ... Fair Annie
His heart ... bleed
But ere the hour o' twal o'clock
Fair Annie she was deid

Then Thomas he's gane to Annie's bow'r-door
And tirled low(?) at the pin
Ne'er ready e'er was than Annie's mither
To let Lord Thomas in

"Oh deal ye weel at my love's lyke
The white breid and the wine
And ere the morn at this time
You'll deal as weel at mine."

The ane was laid in Mary's kirk
The other in Mary's choir
And fae the ane there sprang a birk
Fae the other there sprang a briar

And now brave Mudcatters a', do your best!