Come all ye true-born Glasgow boys
And listen to my song
I'm going to speak of Hogmanay
It won't detain you long

I've made this little tune for you
I've laid it on my whistle
And I think the name I'll give to it
Is The Shamrock and The Thistle

Well aboard the Royal Ulsterman
We had a dram or twa
When daylight broke, we all awoke
And saw the Broomielaw

The journey o'er, we went ashore
Our friends all raised a cheer
And soon the word was going 'round:
The Irishmen are here

We were not rash, we wore no sash
We sang no party lay
But we had come to join the fun
A real Scotch Hogmanay

We marched up to Argyle Street
Bought whiskey, sours and rum
And the songs we sang, were Sweet Strabane
And Britain Here We Come
A welcome rare, we soon got there
It was a glorious fair
Little Thompson cried, "Get that inside
I see you're needing fare."

So when we'd had a clay to that
And feeling in good trim
Bill said "come on, I'm for the Crom,"
So we went along with him

Now many's the hoolie we've been at
When at home, across the see
And at new year, with stout and beer
We go upon the sweet

And the Scotts the don't just make whoopie
And drink with mum and dad
For on the 31st of December, boys
The all go raving mad

Forgive me friends for being rude
I'm not, you will agree
The Irish too, are a crazy crew
Just look at Bob and me

For a Scotsman seeing the New Year in
Is a sight for gods and men
And it take an Irish paddy, boys
To be equal to him then
For the Scotsmen have their thistle, and
The Welshmen have their leek
The English have, their rose, me boys
And lots of flaming sheep

The Irish have the shamrock, and
They hold it very dear
But you'll find it with the thistle, men