Poem by Robert Burns

The Deil’s awa’ wi’ the Exciseman

			1.

The Deil cam fiddling thro’ the town,
    	And danced awa wi’ the Exciseman;
And ilka wife cried “Auld Mahoun,
    	We wish you luck o’ your prize, man.”

			Chorus

	The Deil’s awa, the Deil’s awa,
		The Deil’s awa wi’ the Exciseman;
	He’s danc’d awa, he’s danc’d awa,
		He’s danc’d awa wi’ the Excisemen.

			2.

We’ll mak our maut, and brew our drink,
  	We’ll dance, and sing, and rejoice, man;
And mony thanks to the muckle black De’il
    	That danced awa wi’ the Exciseman.
			
			Chorus

	The Deil’s awa, the Deil’s awa,
		The Deil’s awa wi’ the Exciseman;
	He’s danc’d awa, he’s danc’d awa,
		He’s danc’d awa wi’ the Excisemen.

			3.

There’s threesome reels, and foursome reels,
    	There’s hornpipes and strathspeys, man;
But the ae best dance e’er cam to our lan’,
    	Was – the De’il’s awa wi’ the Exciseman.

			Chorus

	The Deil’s awa, the Deil’s awa,
		The Deil’s awa wi’ the Exciseman;
	He’s danc’d awa, he’s danc’d awa,
		He’s danc’d awa wi’ the Excisemen.

1. It Is Na, Jean, Thy Bonnie Face
2. Farewell, Thou Stream
3. Sleep’st Thou, or Wak’st Thou
4. Eppie M’Nab
5. Mark Yonder Pomp

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