by Kate Holly-Clark (ttto King of the Road, Roger Miller)
Soldier for sale or rent, sheep to shag, fifty cents.
No roof, your clothes are wet. Had to hock those Viking helmets
Oh, but two hours of painting blue earns a bowl of tater stew.
You're a man of means by no means, King of the Woad.
Fighting in mud and rain, Destination: Spanish Main.
Loincloth and skinny arms, silver tongue is all your charms
Out there at night with sheep, nobody gets any sleep.
You're a man of means by no means,King of the Woad.
So Scottishmen beware, your life is spent in open air.
Drink whisky, head like a rock. At least you've got a happy flock
Paint up with paint so blue, everyone will know that you
Are a man of means, by no means, King of the Woad.