I love toories. Here's part of a song my mom and dad used to sing:
'Twas the toorie on his bonnet,
The red toorie on it.
His red toorie-oorie-oorie-ay -
He left his kilt and sporran
And off he went to war in
His red toorie-oorie-oorie-ay.
And when swinging into action
He's the centre of attraction
He's the pride of Bonnie Scotland, so they say.
But what made the Gerries run?
It was not his Tommy gun,
'Twas the toorie on his bonnet,
The bonnie toorie on it
His red toorie-oorie-oorie-ay!
"Touch not the cat bot a glove."
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