| One of the largest collections of Scottish Ballads & Scots Folk Songs, lyrics, celtic music and downloads available on the internet. |
| Traditional Celtic Music, Scottish Songs & Border Ballads |
| Scots' musician, songwriter, & balladeer. |
| Hazel Whyte |
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| Irish' Music |
| Among The Living |
| It was once said to me, and has been voiced by many - that the only difference between the Scots and the Irish is that the Scots stopped fighting. My response to my Irish friends is that we stopped fighting for good reason. After putting OUR king on THEIR throne, WE thought WE had won ! Sadly the Scots have now spent four centuries wondering what happened ?? Perhaps NOW is the time to peacefully right the wrongs of the past. |
| In the words of Burns, as he wrote from the heart. Scots, wha hae wi' Wallace bled, Scots, wham Bruce has aften led, Welcome to your gory bed, Or to victorie. Now's the day, and now's the hour; See the front o' battle lour; See approach proud Edward's power, Chains and slaverie. Wha would be a traitor-knave? Wha can fill a coward's grave? Wha sae base as be a Slave? Let him turn and flie: Wha for Scotland's king and law, Freedom's sword will strongly draw, Free-man stand, or free-man fa', Let him follow me. By Oppression's woes and pains! By your Sons in servile chains! We will drain our dearest veins, But they shall be free! Lay the proud Usurpers low! Tyrants fall in every foe! Liberty's in every blow! Let us Do - or Die!!! Choose your destiny. |
i was on the front line of the march down on william street crowd a cheering, some stones were thrown but otherwise at peace gas was fired by th army, the marchers sprayed with dye someone shouted saracens are coming on rossville street they road a hall of shots rang out, crowd taken unawares there were people lying, creeping, running, screaming everywhere bullets coming from all directions, under fire when we moved our heads though we approaced the soldiers with our hands up in the air now the ropes slip gently /neath your back lowered to a peace that you have gained among the living dressed in black i'm left standing over, standing over your grave running by the rubble barricades just past glenfada park i was dragged out by my hair on the ground, crawling to your side a man took his coat off, put it under your sweet head father daly whispered last rites, but you were gone high up on a hill of creegan derry mourned the fall when i pray to god i ask him what's the meaning of it all |