Aye drummin' an' ruffin',
Aye soakin' an' scuffin',
Aye jokin' an' stuffin',
Ken ye Tam an' his drum?
I trow he's a stuffy wee cricket,
Tho' cruikit, wee-buikit, an' stickit,
He's no very easily licket,
Stuffy wee Tam an' his drum.
Whaure'er maut or mischief is brewin',
Whaure'er there is aught to get fou on,
Whaure'er there is onything new in,
You're sure to meet Tam an' his drum.

A' sleepy new-married folks, scornin'
To rise up betimes in the mornin',
Gie Tammie his fee an' his warnin',
He's sure to be there wi' his drum.
The bride in a flusterin' flurry,
The bridegroom a' foaming wi' fury,
He bangs on his claes in a hurry,
An' curses baith Tam an' his drum.

At twalhours, when knee-breekit carles
Slip in to their whisky an' farles,
Gin Tammie has gotten his arles,
He's sure to be there wi' his drum.
At ilka puir bodie's cross roupin',
At ilka bit niffer or coupin',
The moment ye ca' the gill-stoup in,
You're sure to see Tam an' his drum.

At e'enin' when ten o'clock's chappin',
An' wark-folks a' hameward are stappin',
Straught up the High Street he comes pappin',
An' shuts a' the shops wi' his drum.
At midnight when bodies get bouzie,
An' set up in flames their bit housie,
Wee Tammie, half-naked an' touzie,
Awaukens the town wi' his drum.

When our Bailies, wi' round chubby faces,
Are coached down in state to the races,
A' the horses show off their best paces,
At tuck o' wee Tam an' his drum.
I trow he is merry an' cheery,
Wi' Tammie ye canna weel weary,
But a' wad gang heeliegoleery,
Gin ye wanted wee Tam an' his drum.