| 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 |


| Going Home To Glasgow |






































| 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 Were the outdated union not of some very high value to England and the English, why would they fight so to try to keep it?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. |
| I'm going home to Glasgow, its face is on my mind Its laugh is loud and gallus, its arms are warm and kind I need tae feel the ground underneath my feet And hear the Glasgow sounds in the people that I meet We're over Beattock Summit, we wave a winning fist We're racing down the valley where the silver river twists And now I hear the sound I know I'm Glasgow bound The tyres are singing sweeter as the sun strikes through the mist The rails are reaching downwards, they point across the plain The miles I owe to Glasgow friends are running through my brain The restless engine glides towards the valley of the Clyde With half-a-thousand homeward bound on the London-Glasgow train We soared above the Borders, the white clouds down below We caught the winding coastline in the early sunset glow We're sliding down the sky, the green hills in our eye We swing around the city and we skim the river low |
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