The Haggis Song

The haggis season has begun
All over Scotland every gun
Is taken down with loving care
Though some prefer the haggis snare
For haggis are a wily lot
That's why they are so seldom shot
"We're the haggis, aye, hooray;
We'll live until next Hogmanay"

Its flying upside down and low
The guns all fire, but they're too slow
And though it's rather old and fat
It's awfully hard to hit like that
And as it flies off in the mist
Great hairy clansmen shake their fists
And scream their curses to the crags
And stamp on empty haggis bags
And so the haggis gets away
To live until next Hogmanay

"We're the haggis, aye, hooray;
We'll live until next Hogmanay"