Its nae ma fault

That I love a wee single malt

Ma fa’ther taught me ta drink

But much time deed pass

And now its a London Lass

Who tells me what ma lips should sink

Traditional malts are to be sipped

But these Londoners just want the bartender tipped

Fer makin fancy whisky cocktails

And megga fortune sales

Wi’ no respect for highland culture

And ne’er a thought for ancient distillers

Today its all aboot Outlander thrillers

These sassenachs just din’nay ken

That real scotch whisky is what makest true red blooded Scotsmen