Mechty ye missied ane
The auld rustic bridge by the mill (Can't remember the author it might be a Towers.)

I'm thinking tonight of the old rustic brig
That bends o'er the clear winding burn
Twas there at New Year wi ma belly foo o beer
I crassed where the road taks the turn.

I'd been at a party with whisky and beer
And I had a glorious fill
I got on me bike but I sailed ower the dyke
At the auld rustic bridge by the mill.

Beneath me the front wheel she buckled
I'm wearing the marks o it still
I barkit me shins on the bottles and tins
At the auld rustic bridge by the mill.

I'm thinking tonight o that auld rusty bike
She carried many a mile
She's a reed wi rust and the front wheel is burst
To mend her is no worth me while.

She once was a beauty wi back pedal brakes
And gears I could change on a hill
But noo I must hike since I struck the dyke
At the auld rustic bridge by the mill.

Beneath the wheel she buckled
It sure was a terrible spill
Me heid in the segs, wi me bike roon me legs
At the auld rustic bridge by the mill.

I'm thinking tonight of the last harvest ball
The night cometh he felt so grand
For eight bob an hour they could hire Henry Hall
To play at their dance wi his band.

But I got me ticket, a drap in me pooch
Then I got a terrible spill
I near broke me neck ower aylsbury drake
At the auld rustic bridge by the mill.

Beneath me the front wheel she buckled
The drake, oh I swear for him still
His neck threw me wheels, cast head ower heels
At the auld rustic bridge by the mill.