| 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 |
| Granny Frazer's Flittin |
| 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 Were the outdated union not of some very high value to England and the English, why would they fight so to try to keep it?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. |
| It was on a Monday mornin', fu' weel I mind the scene When Granny Fraser flitted frae Aboyne tae Aberdeen The village folk they a' turned oot tae see her on the road The horse it couldnae pu' the cairt, ye should have seen the load There was airmchairs, bath-chairs, rockin' chairs as weel Cradles, ladles, a pun' o' fish for meal There was woollen shawls, mothballs, jeely pans and jaurs An' Grandpa near fell aff the top wi' Granny's chest o' drawers There was wee pots, teapots, a pair o' wally dugs Big pots, flooer pots, Granny's cheeny jugs There was stew-pots, what-nots, ye ken the kind I mean At Granny Fraser's flittin' frae Aboyne tae Aberdeen Noo John MacNab the policeman, he cried for volunteers It was the first time he had ta'en his jaiket aff in years Tae get the dunkey movin' every man did play his pairt They jist got hauf-way up the street when a wheel fell aff the cairt An' there was face-towels, auld bowls litterin' the street Claes props, alarm clocks a' roon' aboot yer feet There was golf clubs, washtubs litterin' the lane An' Grandpa's Ne'erday bottle it was runnin' doon the drain There was fur coats, porridge oats mixed up wi' the glaur A big spear, souvenir fae the Zulu war There was antique tight breeks o' Eighteen-seventeen At Granny Fraser's flittin' frae Aboyne tae Aberdeen Noo Geordie Broon the blacksmith, he weighed near twenty stone He lifted up the cairt hissel' an' put the wheel back on He got the load securely tied amid the scoffs an' jeers An' as the lorry left the street he got three rousin' cheers An' there was old spats, tile hats, some things I couldnae say Tin trays, auld claes she wouldna throw away There was floor mats, corn grub mixed up wi' the rest An' bottles of some nippy stuff my granny liked the best There was lawn-mowers, plus-fours tied on wi' a rope An' a big flag some wag tied tae the top On the tail-board, encored, lookin' like the Queen Was Granny Fraser flittin' on the road tae Aberdeen |
| Tab/Sheet Music As Available |