The captain’s name was Ned. He was the pride of the regiment,
The bonniest lad in all of the Army-o.
A very handsome sight, he was the ladies’ own delight
As we marched through the bonny streets of Fyve-io.
“Well it’s I’ll give you ribbons, and I’ll give you rings;
And I’ll give you a necklace of amber-o,
If you’ll come on down the stair and comb back your yellow hair,
And we’ll march through the bonny streets of Fyve-io!”
There’s many a bonny lass in the town of Achterless,
Aye, there’s many a bonny lassie in the Gairioch!
There’s many a bonny Jean in the streets of Aberdeen,
But the flower of them all lives in Fyve-io.
“Mount up!” the colonel cried, “and it’s o’er the brae we’ll ride,
Down from the highland to Firth Nery-o!”
“Well, it’s tarry another day!” we heard the captain say,
As we marched through the bonnie streets of Fyve-io.
The colonel in a rage drew his pistol and took aim
At the bonniest lad in all of the army-o;
He fired a deadly ball, and our captain he did fall,
As we marched through the bonny streets of Fyve-io.
It’s lang e’er we left the town of Achterless.
We had our young captain to carry-o.
And lang e’re we came into bonny Aberdeen.
We had our young captain there to bury-o.
There once was a troop of Irish dragoons
Come marching down through Fyve-io,
And the captain fell in love with a very bonny lass
As we marched through the bonny streets of Fyve-io.