A've aye worked on farms an frae the start The muckle horses won my heart Wi big broad backs they proudly stand The uncrowned kings o' a' the land And yet for a' their power and strength They're as gentle as a summer's wind So steady, boys, walk on Oor work is nearly done Nor more we'll till or plough the fields The horses' day is gone An' this will be our last trip home So steady, boys, walk on Now you'll hear men sing their songs of praise Of Arab stallions in a race Or hunters that fly wi' the hounds Tae chase the fox and run him down But none o' them compare, I vow Tae a workin' pair that pulls a plough And a' the years I've plied my trade And a' the fields we've ploughed and laid I never thought I'd see the time When a Clydesdale's work wid ever end But progress runs its driven course And tractors hae replaced the horse As we head back, oor friends have lined The road tae be there one last time For nane of them would want tae miss The chance tae see us pass like this They'll say they saw in years tae come The muckle horses' last trip home