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
Scots' Music
Devil Uisge
Beatha
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Were the outdated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.
Tab/Sheet Music
As Available
Chorus:
Whisky is a devil jaud that burns the brains of man
He'll dance or stagger, sing or fight, he'll argue black and
blue is white
The fairmer's wife, the widow and the weary working man
They fill the air with curses on that devil uisge beatha

He watches for the gauger man that prowls the countryside
He hides his liquid treasure, then waits for night and rides
O'er the Torrance burn tae Glesca where there's plenty that
will buy her
She's that sweet forbidden devil uisge beatha

A band of wild marauders in the colours of Colquhoun
Were camped above the Campsie Moors above the
Lennoxtoon
The folk below were soon to know they were Clan Gregor
men
When they came sweeping doon the Campsie Glen

They scattered a' before them, a' the weemin and the bairns
They chased the fairming workers and the fairmers tae
their hames
They gathered up the cattle and they camped aside the hill
And there they found the hidden whisky still

The Campsie men assembled then tae see what could be
done
But shepherd lads and cottars cannae match a hieland band
They cursed the thieving reivers and their heathen hieland
cries
As they drank their fill aneath the evening skies

Whisky is a devil jaud that burns the brains o' men
For in the night the hieland men fell drunk upon the ground
The Campsie men crept up to them and slew them as they
lay
And a' was back in order by the day

There's stills above the clachan, there's stills aroond the
fells
There's stills aboot the countryside nae gaugerman can
smell
But the one that snared the Gregor was mair valuable than
ten
Tae the honest fairmers o' the Campsie Glen

Last chorus:
Whisky is a devil jaud that burns the brains of man
He'll dance or stagger, sing or fight, he'll argue black and
blue is white
The fairmer's wife, the widow and the weary working man
They fill the air with blessings on that devil uisge beatha