Splish-splash, splish-splash, splish-splash, splish...

Homeward-bound, and the saloon-bar becomes active once more;

‘Sailin’ up the Clyde, sailin’ up the Clyde

Back tae bonnie Scotland and yer ain fireside

There’s a lump comes in yer throat and a tear ye cannae hide

When yer sailin’ back tae Scotland and yer ain fireside.’

 

The drunk shouts:

 

‘Give us anither ane.’

 

The wee minstrel starts singing:

 

‘Maxwellton braes are bonnie

Where early fa’s the dew

It was there that Annie Laurie

Geid me her promise true.’

 

The drunk shouts:

 

‘Hi! You wi’ the seagull’s shite on yer heid gonnae shut yer face. Ye’ll make it effin' rain.’

 

The little ship continues on up river. Your Captain, Joe, is at it too. Yes, I'm singing away merrily on the bridge, as I pass Dumbarton Rock:

 

‘Roamin’ in the gloamin’ wi’ a lassie by yer side

Roamin' in the gloamin' by the bonnie banks o' Clyde

When the sun has gone tae rest

That’s the time that I love best

Och it’s lovely roamin’ in the gloamin’

 

Splish-splash, splish-splash, splish-splash, splish...

                                                              

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