O Adney, Bonney, Adney, I present ad you, Wherever I wander, I'll I think on you,O'er hills and through valleys, though often I've gone,Through brambles and brushwood, myself all alone.It is not the long road that I have to go, It is not the journey that vexes me so,It's the leaving, O' Adney, and good friends behind,O' Adney, Bonney, Adney, you're I in my mind,O' the young men of Adney are our roving bleeds,And they take great pleasure in courting fair maids,They kiss them and clap them and spend money free,O' our gates, O' Scotland, it's Adney for me,We'll drink and be merry, we'll drink in Gingham,If we bide here any longer, we'll get a bad name,We'll get a bad name, boys, and fell ourselves foo,In the long walks, O' Adney, there are taking through.