Lyrics:

Now Lindsay, he has taken to the road
Straight to the north he'll steer
With a Speyside fiddle in his pack
Aye he'll make a livin' it's clear

He's well met with a Padlar's drouth
And a chance to adjourn to the inn
He's called for ale and he's taken up a pipe
And carelessly slipped to the tune

All through the night they fiddled and piped
For the dancers had taken to the floor
They neither wanted a pipe or a glass
Or a lass when the music was o'er

They played up through markets and fairs
Till at length to the north they've come
And there they met black Janet the widow
Who sang as she rattled her drum

Now Lindsay asked black Janet to dance
And you ne'er saw so bonny a pair
She has taken him firm by the hand
And they tripped to the top of the stair

Here, she said, is a fine feather bed
Where a man be he weary or drear
May step for me a gay strathspey
With me lilting a tune in his ear

Now Janet was as good as her word
And Lindsay has proven his worth
May you all have so merry a dance
If ever you're comin' to the north