| 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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| Scots' Music |
| A Wild Utopian Dream |
| A simple brief thought on Scottish Independance. Were the outdated union not of some very high value to England and the English, why would they fight so to try to keep it? There are only so many slices to a pie, for one to have more, another must have less. Lastly - to those Scottish "Loyalists" - to whom are you loyal? Scots royalty died in the 1700's so it can be no Scots crown - And certainly not it appears to those who came before, that bled for Scotland and her freedom ! |
| 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. |
| Last night I dreamed a dream, a wild Utopian dream The air was fresh and clean, the streets were white as cream The river flowed so crystal clear The cheerful children all appeared And full of pride they gaily cried, Our lungs are free from fear Our lungs are free from fear Last night I dreamed a dream, a wild Utopian dream The grass was freshand green, there were no slums to be seen The dole queues had gone away The workers worked a four-hour day The foundries rang, the mill-girls sang like nightingales in May Like nightingales in May Last night I dreamed a dream, a wild Utopian dream This morning I awoke to clouds of dirty smoke The sparrows coughed their morning song The slums were back, the queues were long The dust lies deep, the trees all weep, oh send me back to sleep And give me back my dream |