Finzean Tea Rooms

Fit fine in Finzean, Rare,

A cuppie o' tea, an a sconie.

Jam as weel, n' cream ana.

Ahts Fingin for ye, nae Finzeeeeen,

Ah wis feeling yon kine awye,

Doon in i'moo, up tae high doh,

Fae the rain like!

Man, it fair maks a difference,

Fires richt inta yer barra,

Oany dooters oot there jist wrappit

Ca yer wheesht, n'yer seemit n' yer drawers,

Cause it’s Fingin tae you, nae Finzeeeeen.

D’ye ken fit I’m spiking aboot?

Div ye?  Hiv oany o’ye got a clue?

Yon Clachnaben's affa bonnie,

Wi a cuppie of tea an a sconnie.

Cause it's Fingin tae me nae  Finzeeeeen.

So, far aboot's d'ye come fae?

Kin ye spik yer ain Mither tongue?

Or are ye like a coo keekin ower a dyke?

From an existence that's far more hum drum?

This is Fingin Min nae Finzeeeeen.