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
