Pop Goes the Weasel
Pop Goes the Weasel
Anither favourite wi growen-ups an bairns.
Roond aboot the parritch pot,
fechtin for the theevil,
that's the way the money goes.
Pop goes the weasel!
My wee boy's a bonny wee boy,
your wee boy's a deevil;
that's the wey the money goes.
Pop goes the weasel!
Up an doon Jamaica Street,
ridin on an Eagle;
that's the way the money goes.
Pop goes the weasel.
The hireies roond the parritch pot,
lickin' at the theevil;
that's the wey the meal's sae dear.
Pop goes the weasel!
