Donald, Where's Your Trousers? کے بول

I just down from the Isle of Skye I'm no very big but I'm awful shy All the lassies shout as I walk by, "Donald, Where's Your Trousers?" Let the wind blow high and the wind blow low Through the streets in my kilt I go All the lassies cry, "Hello! Donald, where's your trousers?" I went to a fancy ball It was slippery in the hall I was afeared that I may fall Because I nay had on trousers I went down to London town To have a little fun in the underground All the Ladies turned their heads around, saying, "Donald, where's your trousers?" The lassies love me every one But they must catch me if they can You canna put the breeks on a highland man, saying, "Donald, where's your trousers?"