O, dear me, the mill is running fast And we poor shifters canna get nae rest Shifting bobbins coarse and fine They fairly make you work for your ten and nine O, dear me, I wish this day were done Running up and doon the Pass is nae fun Shiftin, piecin, spinning warp, weft and twine To feed and clothe ma bairnie offa ten and nine O, dear me, the world is illdivided Them that works the hardest are the least provided But I maun bide contented, dark days or fine Theres no much pleasure living offa ten and nine
nae, offa, nine, ten, dear