This text comes from The Book of Scottish Song, edited by Alexander Whitelaw, a historical songbook transcribed on Wikisource and reproduced from the pinned revision linked below.
Carle, an the king come,
Carle, an the king come,
Thou shalt dance and I will sing,
Carle, an the king come.
An somebody were come again,
Then some body maun cross the main;
And every man shall ha'e his ain,
Carle, an the king come.
I trow we swappit for the worse;
We ga'e the boot and better horse;
And that we'll tell them at the corse,
Carle, an the king come.
When yellow corn grows on the rigs,
And gibbets stand to hang the Whigs,
O, then we'll a' dance Scottish jigs,
Carle, an the king come.
Nae mair wi' pinch and drouth we'll dine,
As we ha'e done—a dog's propine—
But quaff our draughts o' rosy wine,
Carle, an the king come.
Cogie, an the king come,
Cogie, an the king come,
I'se be fou' and thou'se be toom.
Cogie, an the king come.