O Jerusalem, Jerusalem, ye kïll tha proaphits an stane thaim that's sent tae ye! Monies tha time A wantit tae gether yer weans thegither, laik a hen gethers hir lachter o wee burds unnèr hir wïngs, but yis wudnae let me!
Tha sarvint toul hïm, ‘Yer brither haes cum hame, an yer faither haes kïllt tha wee kwye we wur fattenin, fer he's gled tae hae hïs sinn hame safe an siccar.’
But he saed tae hïs faither, ‘Luk, A hae wrocht haird fer ye aa these yeirs, an no yinst hae A no daen yer bïddin. Aa thïs time ye niver even gien me a wee góat tae hae a swaree wi ma freens!
Noo whaniver tha Pharisee that haed axt hïm tae cum saen thïs, he thocht tae hissel, “If thïs man wus a proaphit, he shud hae kent whut soart o a wumman thïs ïs that toucht hïm. He shud a knowed she's a baad wumman.”