The Ballad o' Castle Huntly Gaol

Yon Alex lied, crawed Iain Gray,

Wi' his sleekit lang tung o' siller;

Tae the Scots parliament he did say,

That he kenned nocht o' any missin' pris'ner;

But he's found oot, the whey faced knobheid-

That Alex, the parly did no' mislead.

No, wha this tale o' truth shall read,

Ilk man and mother's son take heed;

Whene'er to drink you are inclin'd,

Or Gordon Broon runs barefoot in your mind,

Think! ye may buy joys o'er dear -

Remember Iain Gray's nightmare.