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The De'il's Awa' wi' the Exciseman


Text by Robert Burns (1759-1796)

The deil cam fiddlin thro' the town,
And danc'd awa wi' th' Exciseman;
And ilka wife cries, auld Mahoun,
I wish you luck o' the prize, man.

Chorus:
The deil 's awa, the deil 's awa
The deil 's awa wi' th' Exciseman,
He 's danc'd awa he 's danc'd awa
He 's danc'd awa wi' the' Exciseman.

We'll mak our maut and we'll brew our drink,
We'll laugh, sing, and rejoice, man;
And mony braw thanks to the meikle black deil,
That danc'd awa wi' th' Exciseman.

The deil 's awa the deil 's awa...

There 's threesome reels, there 's foursome reels,
There 's hornpipes and strathspeys, man,
But the ae best dance e'er cam to the Land
Was, the deil 's awa wi' th' Exciseman.

The deil 's awa the deil 's awa...

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