I've just come back from the Isle of Skye 

Im no very big and I'm awful shy 

And the lassies shout when I go by 

"Donald where's yer troosers" 



A lassie took me to a ball 

And it was slippery in the hall 

And I was feart that I would fall 

Fur I hadnae on ma' troosers 



To wear the kilt is my delight 

It isna wrong, I know its right 

The islanders would get a fright 

If they saw me in the troosers 



Let the wind blow high, let the wind blow low 

Through the streets in my kilt I'll go 

And all the lassies shout hello 

"Donald where's yer troosers"