Auld Johnnie Noddle sleeps through a' the day,
Sleeps until the sun gangs doon an' a' the licht away;
Then he waukens up an' niddles up an' doon,
On his heid a great big hat wi' a lang croon.
When a wean begins to nod an' spurls wi' legs an' han's
Auld Johnnie Noddle at the window stan's,
Pits his face against the peen to see what he can see,
For Auld Johnnie Noddle—a queer man is he.
Auld Johnnie Noddle do ye no' think shame?
Stan'in' glowrin' in at weans when ye should be at hame,
Weel I ken what mak's ye wear sic a lang, lang croon—
It's to pit the weans in that winna sleep fu' soun'.
Auld Johnnie Noddle gang awa' this nicht,
Twenty bairns are waur than mine—gie them a' a fricht;
If a wean, an' I ha'e ane lyin' on my knee,
Tries wi' a' his micht to sleep, ye should let him be.
Auld Johnnie Noddle—see I draw the blin',
Sic a face as yours I ken frichts this bairn o' mine,
Daur ye come aboot the door when the wean is soun',
Aff will gang your big hat wi' the lang croon.