I'm leaving old Glasgow behind me
I'm sayin' ta ta, cheerio
To all my old friends I say never
But Churchill he says I must go

I'm sailin' away doon the water,
I'm sailin' far over the sea,
But I'll leave you something for auld lang syne
When I leave old Glasgow behind

I'll leave you Kelvingrove Park to the winchers
Sauchiehall Street tae the clicks
To a' the old boozers I'll leave George's Square
To a' the old fly men, the nick
To the coolies I'll leave Paddie's market
The Barra's as well, I don't mind
But I'll leave you something for auld lang syne
When I leave old Glasgow behind

I'll leave you Celtic Park to the Celtic
But the Rangers in Ibrox do dwell
I'll leave you a bookie to lift in your lines,
I'll leave a noon Record as well.
I'll leave you a pub at each corner,
For all your young friends to get blind,
But I'll leave you something for auld lang syne
When I leave old Glasgow behind.

(My Aunty ("I'm afraid of no man") Ellen's party song!)