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Hazel Whyte
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Men Of Knoydart
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Were the outdated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 down by the farm of Scottas Lord Brocket walked
one day
When he saw a sight that troubled him far more than he
could say
For the seven men of Knoydart were doing what they
planned
They'd staked their claims, they were digging drains on
Brocket's private land

You bloody Reds, Lord Brocket yelled, What's this you're
doing here
It doesn't pay, as you'll find today, to insult an English peer
You're only Scottish half wits but I'll have you understand
You Highland swine, these hills are mine, this is all Lord
Brocket's land

Then up spoke the men of Knoydart, Away and shut your
trap
For threats from a Saxon brewer's boy we just don't give a
rap
Now we are all ex-servicemen who fought against the Hun
We can tell our enemies by now - Brocket, you are one

When the noble lord he heard these words he turned
purple in the face
He said, These Scottish savages are Britain's black disgrace
I know it's true I've let some few thousand acres go to pot
But the lot I'd give to a London spiv before any bloody Scot

You're a crowd of tartan bolshies but I'll soon have you
licked
I'll write to the Court of Session for an interim interdict
I'll write to my London lawyer and he will understand
Och, to hell with your London lawyer, we want our Scottish
land

Then up spoke the men of Knoydart, You have no earthly
right
For this is the land of Scotland and not the Isle of Wight
When Scotland's proud Fianna wi' ten thousand lads is
manned
We'll show the world that Highlanders have a right tae
Scottish land
Tab/Sheet Music
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