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
Generations Of
Change
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Were the outdated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.
My faither was a baillie on a wee fairm at Caiplie
And he worked on the land a' the days o' his life
By the time he made second, he said he reckoned
He'd ploughed nearly half o' the East Neuk o' Fife
He fee'd on at Randerston, Crawhill and Clephinton
Cambo, Carnbee, Kilrennie Hill
At Kingsbarns he married, at Boarhills he's buried
Man, if he'd lived, he'd be ploughing there still

For those days were his days, those ways were his ways
To follow the plough while his back was still strong
But those days are past and the time's come at last
For the weakness of age to make way for the young

I wasnae for ploughing, to the sea I was going
To follow the fish and the fisherman's ways
In rain, hail and sunshine I watched the lang runline
Nae man mair contented his whale working day
I've lang lined the Fladden Ground, the Dutch and the Dogger
Bank
Pulled the big fish from the deep Devil's Hole
I've side trawled off Shetland, the Faroes and Iceland
In weather much worse than a body could thole

For those days were my days, those ways were my ways
To follow the fish while my back was still strong
But those days are past and the time's come at last
For the weakness of age to make way for the young

My sons they have grown and away they have gone
To search for black oil in the far northern sea
Like oilmen they walk, like Texans they talk
Nay, there's no' much in common between my sons and me
They've rough-rigged on Josephine, Forties and Ninian
Claymore, Dunlin, Fisher and Awk
They've made fortunes for sure, for in one trip ashore
They spend more than I earned in a whole season's work

For this day is their day, this way is their way
To ride the rough rigs while their backs are still strong
But this day will pass and the time come at last
For the weakness of age to make way for the young

My grandsons are growing, to school now they're going
But the lang weeks o' summer they spend here wi' me
We walk through the warm days, we talk of the old ways
The cornfield, the codfish, the land and the sea
We walk through the fields my father once tilled
Talk wi' the old men who once sailed wi' me
Man, it's been awfu' guid, I showed them all I could
O' the past and the present, what their future might be

For tomorrow is their day, what will be their way
What will they make of their land, sea and sky
Man, I've seen awfu' change, still it seems very strange
To look at the world through a young laddie's eyes
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