trad.

Sandy is a Sailor, he works in Fairyhill
He gets his pay on Saturday and buys a half a gill

   To me wrinkle trinkle tra la la, tra la la, tra la la,
   To me wrinkle trinkle tra la la, and a bony bunch o’roses

He goes to Kirk on Sunday a half an hour late
He taks the button off his shirt and he puts it on the plate

I can wash a sailor shirt and I can wash it clean,
I can wash a sailor shirt and I’ll hang it on the green

If you go doon tae see his ship you’ll never get him in,
You’ll find him in a hairy bar drinking bottled gin