Oh, the queer auld man, the dear auld man, The drollest in Christendie— Wha sae afte has beguil'd doure care till he smil'd— He's comin' to daud frae his bonnet a blink, The stoure o' classic ha's— He's hung up his goun i' the guid auld toun, An' brunt his critic's taws. (Chorus) He's a dear auld man, he's a queer auld man, He's a free auld man, he's a slee auld man— Frae the Aristook to the Raritan, Ye'll no find the fier o' our spree auld man.