Real Mckenzies - Donald Where's Yer Troosers? Lyrics

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This here is the story of the three McClusky boys
The shining living legends they call the MC3
The moment they were born they was running in the field
And it wasn't long before they kicked a ball

Now when they was wee boys, they never played with toys
But they booted at that football every morn & through the day
They realized their dream when they all made the team
And they knew they'd win the Cup one day

So raise the banners cross the beams
A thousand praises for the team
Hear the crowd roar whenever they score
Shout the club call, screamin' football
Hey! Come down to the game & you'll see just what we mean

Twas the last game of the tournament, time was running low
The score was tied at 5 to 5 when McClusky took the field
Stunning feet & expertise found them in the scoring zone
And when they deaked the goalie they brought the trophy home

You'll see the most amazing soccer machine
Get yer arse to the game and see just what we mean
Yeah get yer tuckess to the game and they'll show you what they mean



wasn't so fickle, fickle with my pickle
As fickle as I am today
Nothing like a wiggle & a tickle of your pickle
Especially when you're pickled all day

Pickled in the morning
Pickled through the day
Well you might do right by doin' somethin' pickled
So don't put gettin' pickled down

Slaver doon yer mickle for a wiggle & a jiggle
So's the tickle in your pickle will stay
But if you get a trickle
From a wiggle & a jiggle
It's off to the clinic that day

Pickled in the morning
Pickled through the day
Well you might do right by doin' somethin' pickled
So don't put gettin' pickled down
Pickled in the moonlight, pickled as the sun comes 'round
Well you might do right by doin' somethin' pickled
So don't put gettin' pickled down!



In the 18th century way up in the Highlands
The British lion roared at Scotland with a henious plan
The English pushed up from the South with murderous dragoons
And what they did to Scotland will not be forgotten soon

The fighting feild culloden, Prince Charlie was the man
Of illusionary grandure with no head for command
Cumberland with cannon fired on Scots with sword in hand
Brave men fought & died in kilts defending ancient clans

They were Scottish, and now they're gone
They were Scottish, but they live on

The Higlanders were cut to shreds, hung & lost their heads
To put some to rot in prisons and left 'em all for dead
No mercy for the Highland people screaming through the years
Some were chained & shipped as slaves far off to new frontiers

People come & people go but Scots will never die
They live on in sons & daughters
Scottish heart. Scottish pride
Now there's Scottish all around the world
And what better world their be
Remember the ones who made our Scottish history



Do I remember not so many years ago
Me & the young McKenzies skulkin' at the whisky store
Just wee nippers (sippers) much too young to buy a dram
We came up with a daring plan & pulled a whisky scam

We don't care, what anybody say
Just gi' us a dram o' whisky & we'll get down the way
Well if she wants to go, she's gonna let you know
But gi' her a dram o' whisky and she's common with the night

We're all running strong & charging up the hills of life again
I take a look around & some of us are dead
So let us raise a glass of kindness all around
And drink to us, still standing & all of us in the ground

We don't care, what anybody say
Just gi' us a dram o' whisky & we'll get down the way
And if you go away, I'll miss you every day
And gi' us a dram o' whisky for the teardrops in my eyes

Bring out the whisky, bring out the pode
Bring out the whisky, 'cos you never ever know if it be your time to go

So gi' us a dram o' whisky & we'll get down the way
A glistening drop o' whisky like a teardrop in my eye
So gi' us a dram o' whisky so it don't hurt if I die



I've just come back from the Isle of Skye
Im no very big and I'm awful shy
And the lassies shout when I go by
"Donald where's yer troosers"

A lassie took me to a ball
And it was slippery in the hall
And I was feart that I would fall
Fur I hadnae on ma' troosers

To wear the kilt is my delight
It isna wrong, I know its right
The islanders would get a fright
If they saw me in the troosers

Let the wind blow high, let the wind blow low
Through the streets in my kilt I'll go
And all the lassies shout hello
"Donald where's yer troosers"

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