Scotland

A peaceful brook, the dew-coated ferns

A wise old Corsican pine

The smell of all my Gran’s clothes and gifts

Whisk me stray back to calm Loch Fyne

 

We’d trade a bob for a bag o sweets

Sort our boots and find the burn

My brithers and ah we’d laugh the hours away

Running drookit no concern

 

Me Da would teach us to kick a rugby ball

And tackle on the pitch

Until one of us would find some stingy nettle

Ouch Da! This hurts like a

 

Havnae ne’er been to The Land O Fife?

Say no more, sit back wi your bez

The grace runs deep down that old North Street

From all those words Saint Andrew said

 

See, I foond myself on a fairm, on bonnie Drumrack

Where Rob and Douglas work the stead

Leesa and Leslie support the laddies stomachs no doubt,

But where’s old Henry? Oh, nae bother I’ve found him! He’s here on the sofa, resting his lids and his noggin in front of the box! listening to something David Attenborough said

 

Needless to say, pieces of ma heart are still there

A long way off I understand

But it takes nae genius to look and see

that it truly is a special land

 

In a place where aw can feel at home,

secure by loch and key

Moving history of grandiose

shall remain in blissful memory

 

For though held to sword in days gone past

sharp scrutiny by Edward’s eye

No count of blades could e’er drown the words

of Robbie’s Auld Lang Syne

 

I’ve had a burd to love, and friends to share

Days on the Tignabruich “sand”

But when things go wrong, and your mum’s arms are all you have

It’s these long walks home in the right direction that’ll change you from a boy into a man

 

So now I say to old and young

From Wolfville to Arthur’s Seat

Like Wallace said, That the Scots are free

This our lips shall still repeat

 

So raise your glass for days gone by

And days we have yet to see

Scotland is beauty Scotland is brave

Scotland’s you and Scotland’s me

 

To Scotland

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